Cold Chisel - One Long Day - Live Lyrics

Lyrics One Long Day - Live - Cold Chisel




We'd like to get a friend up
David Blake nearly cut his hand off the other day
But he thought he'd come up and play anyway
David Blake on harmonica
Song off the first album
David Blake
City life is closing in on me
The way things go, 30 years
Bus timetable will be my elegy
Up at seven every working day
Pay goes in, pay goes out now
It's a week-by-week charade, eh yeah
General panic in the marketplace
Boss found hung in office
Could not stand the pace, oh no
And as the peak-hour traffic jams below
Someone get the story, somebody spread the rumour
Them people, oh they always come and go
You got to move
You got to go
You got to be somebody
And you've got to roll
You got to stop
And you got to change
You gotta make a little money
And be a little strange
I wandered down along that river last night
Well, you can call me romantic, I'd say I couldn't sleep
'Til the first-light struck me down
Padding homeward on the inside lane
Early morning, freeway cool and quiet
I'm dodging rubber stains
People talking in a seaside bar
Well I, I ain't sentimental, but Lord
Sometimes I get the gypsy urge to travel far
You know I'll disappear some long weekend
I'm gonna find myself a mangrove landscape
Stretch out along some busted jetty
Forget who I am
You got to move
You got to go
You got 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
One long day
Is all it takes to steal her heart away
And one long night
It's alright, you've done it again
Soft, low words
Slender ladies, beneath the café fans
One long day
Layed by dreams
Cotton dresses, a Spanish border town
Dreams so far
From the subways, the crowds heading home
And close each day
Technicolor, a million miles away
One long night, you're all alone
Meanwhile, yeah
City way
Life goes creeping on
Sometimes, yeah
I get the blues
Lord, I get the blues so bad
Meanwhile, yeah
City way
Lord, the life goes creeping on, goes on and on
Sometimes, yeah
Well, I get the blues
Lord, you know sometimes I get the blues so bad
You know I get the blues so bad, yeah
Meanwhile
City ways
Lord, the life goes creeping on, goes on and on
Goes on and on, and on and on and on and on and on and on
And sometimes
I get the blues
Lord, Lord, I get the blues so bad
So bad, so bad, so bad, so bad



Writer(s): Donald Hugh Walker


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