I‘m going round

I’m going round to my friends house

To get myself high

It takes me to a different place

Where nothing leaves my mind

But men in blue knocked on my door

And said I've come to kill off your kind

It's the killing of the mind

The circus came

Then packed up there things

When there's no ones 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 down my walls

And said I've come to kill off your kind

It's the killing of the mind

The circus came

Then packed up there 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 there things

When there's no one around

We'll be high as kings

Without the things

Like jewels and gold