Movin’ on… 7 o'clock on a Sunday morning Everything turns, everything's moving And the clouds, they’re looking at me Asking me, what did you do, silly? Movin’ on… Hardly got off my own bed Feet on the ground, tongues will wag I can't think, and I can't see I really hate being at sea Movin’ on… Hang on, hang on, hangover I finally see what happened to me It feels a bit like a tragedy I’d never get that close to you Without having a drink or two Movin’ on…