CHORUS.
Bless me, ain’t it pleasant,
Bless me, ain’t it pleasant,
Bless me, ain’t it pleasant,
Sparking Sunday night?
How your heart is thumping ’gainst your Sunday vest,
How wickedly ’tis working on this day of rest!
Hours seem but minutes, as they take their flight,
Bless me, ain’t it pleasant, sparking Sunday night?
Dad and Mam are sleeping, on their peaceful bed,