Conversations - Cold Chisel

Kneeling at the hotel reception

Violin a-sobbing on his knee

Twenty bright rozellas on his shoulder

Coin from a wealthy Ceylonese

Hungry people hangin' on the corner

Other people cruisin' by in cars

Feeding on the fiction and the porno

Staring at the tattoos and the scars

Conversations, Conversations

Icy nights and almighty patience

Well some of us are driven to ambition

Some of us are trapped behind the wheel

Some of us will break away, and build a marble yesterday

And live for every moment we can steal

Conversations, Conversations

Shouting out across an empty station

Now it’s just another Tuesday morning

Billy’s wrapped up tight against the chill

The busker packs his birds beneath the awning

Billy’s got his eyes upon the till

He could get a ticket out of here from a local easy lawyer

The busker’s halfway home, Billy’s lounging round the foyer

Love so easily dies when there’s nothing left to conquer

One small break is all he needs, and life ain’t getting longer

Conversations, Conversations

Breakfast show to a sleepy nation