She leaves home at eight, a little bit late
A little bit tired of it all, she unlocks the doors
And does so much more than what she gets credit for
She opens the mail straightens up without failLast Friday evening's mess, she makes brand new coffee
Though her head's hurtin' awfully, by nine she's looking her best
And Monday comes dawning the world wakes up yawning
And Friday seems so far awayBut there bright and early Monday morning secretary
You sure do look pretty today, at ten there's a break
She don't always take, just time for a powder and smoke
A salesman comes in, looks her over end to endAnd tells her a new dirty joke, she laughs off his pass
Like she's done in the past, she knows all those lines so well
Then at five she goes home to her cat and two rooms
And cries 'cause she's lonely as hell
Songwriters
REID, DON S.Published by
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