Heading South

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James Whiley and The Nomads

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Spring days were growing
Good time for going
Left Grandpa's farm and headed down to the sea
I rode with gypsies
And then with hippies
Who tried to share their magic mushies with me
Skipped through Geneva
I hardly see'd her
Just bought some Bidis and bailed
Shined Chamonix
Too posh for me
Spring sun kept filling my sails

A plastic surgeon stopped to give me a lift
In a Merc from Mont Blanc to Milano doing two hundred klics

Heading south, walking out, heading south, come on rock on out
Heading south, walking out, heading south, come on rock on out

And I was sleeping by the side of the road
No sleeping bag, no tent and no warm clothes
One night I walked till dawn just to keep me alive
Then waited hours beside the tollbooth for the next short ride

Towards Brindisi
It wasn't easy
Italian drivers and hitchhikers don't go
Except for one girl
She was delightful
But I was too tired to know
The last truck driver
A war survivor
His cab a shrine to the Pope
Brought me to the ferry
Sweet Mother Mary
I'd reached the end of the road

Next day I landed on the isle of Corfu
Now I might settle in this village for a week or two

Heading south, walking out, heading south, come on rock on out
Heading south, walking out, heading south, come on rock on out
Yeah yeah!

No better life than with your thumb to the wind
I'm going to make the most of Spring and chase my dreaming again

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