Cold Chisel
180426271.gif

City life is closing in on me
The way things go, thirty years,
Bus timetable'll be my elergy

Up at seven every working day
Pay comes in, pay goes out
It's a week-by-week charade

General panic in the marketplace
Boss found hung in office
Could not stand the pace

And as the peak-hour traffic jams below
Someone gets the story, somebody spread the rumour
People come and go

Wandered down along the river last night
Call me romantic, I say I couldn't sleep
Until the first-light struck me down

Padding homeward on the inside lane
Early morning, freeway's cool and quiet
Dodging rubber stains

People talking in a seaside bar
I ain't sentimental, but Lord
Sometimes I get that gypsy urge to travel far

You know I'll disappear some long weekend
Find a mangrove landscape
Stretch out along some busted jetty
And forget who I am

You go to move
You got to go
You go to be somebody
You got to roll
You got to stop
You got to change
You got to make a little money
And be a little strange

And one long day
Is all it takes to steal her heart away
One long night
And it's allright, you've done it again
Soft, low words
And slender ladies, beneath the cafe fans
One long day
Layed by dreams
Cotton dresses, a Spanish border town
Dreams so far
From the subway, the crowds heading home
Close each day
In technicolor, a million miles away
One long night and you're alone

Meanwhile
City ways
Life goes creeping on
Sometimes
I get the blues



Mirror lyrics:


I get the blues
Sometimes
Life goes creeping on
City ways
Meanwhile

One long night and you're alone
In technicolor, a million miles away
Close each day
From the subway, the crowds heading home
Dreams so far
Cotton dresses, a Spanish border town
Layed by dreams
One long day
And slender ladies, beneath the cafe fans
Soft, low words
And it's allright, you've done it again
One long night
Is all it takes to steal her heart away
And one long day

And be a little strange
You got to make a little money
You got to change
You got to stop
You got to roll
You go to be somebody
You got to go
You go to move

And forget who I am
Stretch out along some busted jetty
Find a mangrove landscape
You know I'll disappear some long weekend

Sometimes I get that gypsy urge to travel far
I ain't sentimental, but Lord
People talking in a seaside bar

Dodging rubber stains
Early morning, freeway's cool and quiet
Padding homeward on the inside lane

Until the first-light struck me down
Call me romantic, I say I couldn't sleep
Wandered down along the river last night

People come and go
Someone gets the story, somebody spread the rumour
And as the peak-hour traffic jams below

Could not stand the pace
Boss found hung in office
General panic in the marketplace

It's a week-by-week charade
Pay comes in, pay goes out
Up at seven every working day

Bus timetable'll be my elergy
The way things go, thirty years,
City life is closing in on me


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