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| Move Flowers In The Rain Mist On A Monday Morning 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 (*repeat) 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 |
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