The Move
The Move
The Move
The Move
The Move
The Move
The Move
The Move
The Move
The Move
The Move
The Move
The Move
The Move
The Move
The Move
The Move
The Move
The Move
I wake and yawn at the crack of dawn
With dewdrops on my feet
As I rise up to greet the morning
Nothing much to eat
Every breath I take seems to make my body ache
My only friend is mist on a Monday morning
Pick up my sack and walk for miles
Never thinking why
To the brewer's yard where I can sit
And watch my life go by
Drink and drink all day till my memory melts away
I need a friend like mist on a Monday morning
Where's my wife, has she gone
I hear misty morning call
One foot resting in the grave
Destined not to see her anymore
There's a den in the grass by the autopath
Of corrugated steel
I may be sleeping there tonight
And depending how I feel
Damp and dirty place
Printing sorrow on my face
With nothing but the mist on a Monday morning
Pick up my sack and walk for miles
Never thinking why
To the brewer's yard where I can sit
And watch my life go by
Drink and drink all day till my memory melts away
I need a friend like mist on a Monday morning
From... I feel the sin
Like wheels upon my feet
Intoxicated by the night
I stumbled in the street
Every breath I take seems to make my body ache
And drift into the mist on a Monday morning
Mist on a Monday Morning was written by Roy Wood.
Mist on a Monday Morning was produced by Denny Cordell.