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'