It was a Tuesday morn in November   I slept at your house the night before   We couldn't wait to get up to go for   A big breakfast in an old fashioned diner      A full meal six coffee refills later   We both have to be at work in an hour   Let's call in sick I suggest to her   I'll call your boss and tell her that you're under   The weather, you'll call mine, you will tell her   That I'm very sick and that, you're my mother      So we walk down the street   Looking for a phone booth we   Rehearse what we're going to say   So that we can have this day, away      We find a phone booth with room for two   I call your boss and I don't speak the truth   They're pretty mad about you but they'll get through   You call my work in my mother's voice, they believe you      And it starts to rain outside   In our phone booth we hide   It doesn't let up until 5   Squished together we don't mind, we don't mind