Every morning (a)bout half past eight, My Mummer wakes me says, “Don’t be late”, Get to the office, tryin’ to concentrate, My life is just a slow train crawling up a hill.
So I stop one day to figure it out, I’ll quit my job without a shadow of a doubt, To sing the blues that I know about, My life is just a slow train crawling up a hill.
Minute after minute, Second after second, Hour after hour goes by, Working for a rich girl, Staying just a poor girl, Never stop to wonder why.
So here I am in London town, A better scene I’m gonna be around, The kind of music that won’t bring me down, My life is just a slow train crawling up a hill.
Every morning (a)bout half past eight, My Mummer wakes me says, “Don’t be late”, I get to the office, tryin’ to concentrate, My life is like a slow train crawling up a hill.
So I stop one day to figure it out, I’ll quit my job without a shadow of a doubt, To sing the blues that I know about, My life is just a slow train crawling up a hill.
Minute after minute, Second after second, Hour after hour goes by, Working for a rich girl, Staying just a poor girl, Never stop to wonder why.
So here I am in London town, A better scene I’m gonna be around, The kind of music that won’t bring me down, Life is just a slow train.
So here I am in London town, A better scene I’m gonna be around, The kind of music that won’t bring me down, My life is just a slow train crawling up a hill
Written by John Mayall Published by Trio Essex Music Ltd From the album 'Call Off The Search'