When Sunday Comes Again - song lyrics 
American Old-time song lyrics from www.traditionalmusic.co.uk 
WHEN SUNDAY COMES AGAIN. Copyright, 1891, by Francis, Day & Hunter. Written and Composed by Charles Williams. 
In a neat little cabin in County Tyrone Dwells a gem of a girl that I'm longing to own; This rare little, neat little, sweet little dove, Has eyes that are bright and are brimful of love. No high pedigree can this young maiden trace; Her fortune's her fairy-like figure and face: Next Sunday at ten, boys, a bride she will be. The bridegroom is yours very truly, that's me. 
Chorus. And next Sunday morn when the clock strikes ten She'll be my wife and I the happiest of men. Oh! what joy! no more pain; She and I the knot will tie when Sunday comes again. 
Both the highest and lowest that dwell in the land, Oft have sought, but in vain, for this fair damsel's band; ah! little she cared for their words or their pelf, And vowed she'd resolved to live all by herself; But one day Dau Cupid at her shot his dart, And somehow or other it pierced her young heart; Well I, being handy, got quickly to "biz"; I told her my love, and the consequence in-Chorus. 
On last Saturday morning a note came to me From a jolly old uncle who dwells o'er the sea; He wished both myself And my future bride joy, Concluding by saying, "And now my dear boy, I've got far more money than I want myself, So knowing that you're not o'erloaded with pelf. From me you'll receive on your bright wedding day A thousand or two for a start on life's way." - Chorus.