Tracey Had a Hard Day Sunday

People are papier-mâché
People and the games they play
I'm going off on a fantastic voyage
And I won't let anything bother me
We'll be too happy to worry
Living from day to day
All of my friends are beautiful people
People are papier-mâché

People and the games they play
And I get hurt so easily
If Tracey wants to know I've gone
Before I left I paid all her bills
I finally couldn't take it anymore
I'm tired of telling hеr speed kills

Tracey had a hard day Sunday
She had to be hеrself
And no one else
Tracey had a hard day Sunday, oh yeah

Her parents came to town to visit
She cleaned out her medicine chest
She vacuumed the sofa and all the rest
Acting so prim and proper
Taking the money they had to offer
Smiling when they finally went away
People are papier-mâché

She lit her candle at both ends
And started flipping out on Monday
There's not another boy in town
That she can go on through
There's not another kick that's new
Mirror, mirror on the wall
She has a very long way to fall
I tried to help her but she just wouldn't listen

Tracey had a hard day Sunday
She had to be herself
And no one else
Tracey had a hard day Sunday, oh yeah