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Songs | Albums | Album Arts
Lyrics:
I?m going round, I?m going down To my friend's house to get myself high It takes me to a different place Where nothing leaves my mind
But the men in blue knocked on my door He said I?ve come to kill off your kind It?s the killing of the mind
The circus came then packed up their things When there?s no one around We?ll be high as kings, without the things Like jewels and gold
I?m rolling down, I?m rolling down to my hotel Between the lines The paperboy still looks the same As the old get old and the young are feeling fine
A soldier came, knocked on my wall He said I?ve come to kill off your kind It?s the killing of the mind
The circus came then packed up their things When there?s no one around We?ll be high as kings, without the things Like jewels and gold
The circus came then packed up their things When there?s no one around We?ll be high as kings, without the things Like jewels and gold
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