On The Road - 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

To my skin and my bones

I just had to go

Then everyday and every time I stayed

My feet were burnin'

You just got to know

It’s a never ending show

Packup my toothbrush, I just got to go

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 jungle juice and ladies

When the last note died

We hit the road again

And oh

Well I guess its never quite the same again

Somebody moves his money in

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 till the dawning

And we broke our fast like vagabond kings

And oh

Well I guess its 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 friend’s 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…