Something's On The Move

	  		Intro:  
Bm D  
Bm E D  
 
     Am           C  
She wore a black tiara  
      Am            D  C  
rare gems upon her fingers  
         Am                C  
and she came from distant waters  
       C                  G  
where northern lights explode  
    Am            C  
to celebrate the dawning  
        Am            D  C  
of the new wastes of winter  
 Am              F  
gathering royal momentum  
C      D    E      F G Am  
on the icy road.  
   
 
With chill mists swirling  
like petticoats in motion  
sighted on horizons  
for ten thousand years  
the lady of the ice sounds  
a deathly distant rumble  
to Titanic-breaking children lost  
in melting crystal tears.  
 
G                 A            Bm  
Oh, sunshine --- take me now away from here  
       G            A           Bm  
I'm a needle on a spiral in a groove.  
         G          A  
And the turntable spins  
          D           E  
as the last waltz begins  
         G  
And the weather-man says  
 A                  Bm   D Bm E D  
something's on the move.  
   
 
Capturing black pieces  
in a glass-fronted museum  
the white queen rolls  
on the chessboard of the dawn  
squeezing through the valleys  
pausing briefly in the corries  
the Ice-Mother mates  
and a new age is born.  
 
Oh, sunshine --- take me now away from here  
I'm a needle on a spiral in a groove.  
And the turntable spins  
as the last waltz begins  
And the weather-man says  
something's on the move.  
 
Driving all before her  
un-stoppable, un-straining  
her cold creaking mass  
follows reindeer down.  
Thin spreading fingers seek  
to embrace the sill-warm bundles  
that huddle on the doorsteps  
of a white London Town.  
 
Oh, sunshine --- take me now away from here  
I'm a needle on a spiral in a groove.  
And the turntable spins  
as the last waltz begins  
And the weather-man says  
something's on the move.  
 
She wore a black tiara  
are gems upon her fingers  
and she came from distant waters  
where northern lights explode  
to celebrate the dawning  
of the new wastes of winter  
gathering royal momentum  
on the icy road.  
 
Oh, sunshine --- take me now away from here  
I'm a needle on a spiral in a groove.  
And the turntable spins  
as the last waltz begins  
And the weather-man says  
something's on the move.