Mist On A Monday Morning

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
Need a friend like mist on a Monday morning

Chorus

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 old towpath of corrugated steel
I may be sleeping there tonight
Depending how I feel
Damp and dirty place printing sorrow on my face
With nothing but the mist on a Monday morning

Chorus

From meths and gin I feel the sin
Like wheels upon my feet
Intoxicated by the night
I stumble in the street
Every breath I take seems to make my body ache
And drift into the mist on a Monday morning

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