Lyrics:

I'm going round
I'm going round to my friend's house
To get myself high
It takes me to a different place
Where nothing leaves my mind

The man 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
And 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 old town
Between the lines
The paperboy still looks the same
As the old get old
And the young are feeling fine

A soldier came, knocked down my wall
He said I've come to kill off your kind
It's the killing of the mind

The circus came
And 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
And then packed up their things
When there's no one around
We'll be high as kings
Without the things
Like jewels and gold