Lyrics On the Road (First Album Out-Take) - Cold Chisel

Long ago, in college days
You could measure my hand by the style of my play
Hitchhiking home, when the dollars ran low
I had little to do, and nothing to say
Then the road was grafted like a mistletoe
Oh, my skin and my bones, I just had to go
Then, every day, and every time I stayed
My feet were burnin', you just got to know

As we slaved out west, on the cotton chipping
For the money we got, I knew we were slipping
But later speeding down the Puttee Road
Our heads were high, and our hearts were skipping
And we drove all day, down Wallacia way
For three long days of music and friends
And we all got stoned on apple juice and ladies
When the last note died, we hit the road again

And oh, oh-oh
Well, I guess it's never quite the same again
Somebody moves his money in

Well, Saturday night, and Tony and me
Packed an airline bag and headed down to the sea
The Duke was howlin', down in Sydney town
And when the Duke's around, there's just one place to be
And the rain came down, in Pitt Street, in the morning
The air was alive with little wings
We slept in the car, 'til the dawning
And we broke our fast, like vagabond kings, yeah

And oh, oh-oh
I guess it's never quite the same again
Somebody moves his money in

Well, time goes on, and you ain't any younger
Your belly gets fat, but you still got the hunger
Your friends get married, your hair gets thin
You want to leave it all behind, and scream, "I'm on the road again"
I'm on the road again
I'm on the road again
I'm on the road again
I'm on the road again