Lyrics:

Hand in his hand though the parkAll afternoonA fine day to fly balloons or tell him a storyHand in his hand to wonderTill day is doneSunday father and sonSundays are theres to exploreAlone by lawOne day to keep the two from turning to strangersOne day to know the answersBe firm , be funSunday father and sonThe father weaves though the weekend streetsSunday done, monday comin' onHe leaves the child by a modest homeThat they share no moreWith the woman who waits indoorsTill she knows he's goneWhere are the words or the gamesA place to goSomeway to let him know you want to be with himSomehow it's always endingJust half begunSunday father and sonSunday father and son