And it's a hard time to find a place Just to sit down a while and cry; And it's a cold town, smiling disgrace, Won't let a man alone to die, 'Cause a low voice gratin' gravel pittin' Come along and take you by surprise... Move along, you gotta git down on Your way, Move along, you gotta git down on Your way. Pickin' grass, looking for an omen, For a while I though I'd maybe settle Down; Got a heap of logs and a belly full of Hunger And a yearnin' jus' to build me a home. With a cold face, stalkin' through a Nightmare Comes an echo of a place that I've Bin before... Move along, you gotta git down on Your way, Move along, you gotta git down on Your way. Well, time after time I can sit here Waiting For the level to do something in the bay; And day over night see my cold foot Shuffle Outta sand shoes slipping away. Come a stiff hair bristle like a poker Pokin' fingers into something he ain't Poked before... Move along, you gotta git down on Your way, Move along, you gotta git down on Your way. - Lyric: David MacIver Music: Rupert Hine Electric Piano & Harmonica: Rupert Hine Electric & Accoustic Guitars: Simon Jeffes Bass: John Perry Congas, Tambourine, Cabassa & Ass's Jaw: Ray Cooper