Seven Days - Chris Botti

«Seven days"was all she wrote

A kind of ultimatum note

She gave to me, she gave to me When I thought the field had cleard

It seems another suit appeared

To challenge me, woe is me Though I hate to make a choice

My options are decreasing mostly rapidly

Well we’ll see

I don’t think she’d bluff this time

I really have to make her mine

It’s plain to see

It’s him or me Monday, I could wait till Tuesday

If I make up my mind

Wednesday would be fine, Thursday’s on my mind

Friday’d give me time, Saturday could wait

But Sunday’d be too late

The fact he’s over six feet ten

Might instill fear in other men

But not in me, The Mighty Flea (flee?)

Ask if I am mouse or man

The mirror squeaked, away I ran

He’ll murder me in time for his tea

Does it bother me at all

My rival is Neanderthal it makes me think

Perhaps I need a drink

IQ is no problem here

We won’t be playing scrabble for her hand I fear

I need that beer

Monday, I could wait till Tuesday

If I make up my mind

Wednesday would be fine, Thursday’s on my mind

Friday’d give me time, Saturday could wait

But Sunday’d be too late

Seven days will quickly go The fact remains, I love her so Seven days, so many ways

But I can’t run away

Monday, I could wait till Tuesday

If I make up my mind

Wednesday would be fine, Thursday’s on my mind

Friday’d give me time, Saturday could wait

But Sunday’d be too late

Do I have to tell a story

Of a thousand rainy days since we first met

It’s a big enough umbrella

But it’s always me that ends up getting wet