i went euromad out on the road last fall

between the roman churches and the german music halls

were it not for mr gordon and his fine distillery

i might not have got this far it would be all the same to me



i started in bologna when i stepped between the lights

i thought i'd lost my charisma my life flashed between my eyes

the communists rejected me i didn't fit their plan

and anyway i must assume there anti-american



it might have been geneva in a darkened discotheque

and though i met sophia i still got it in the neck

a journalist he spied on me like i always knew they would

he wrote me off like a business trip i felt deeply misunderstood



or maybe it was paris blazing dignity and pride

it's a city full of heiresses where i very nearly died

i woke up in the circus with a whistling in my ears

i'm ready for the antidote can you tell me what it is



i went euromad out on the road last fall

between the roman churches and the german music halls

were it not for mr gordon and his fine distillery

i might have never made it through this euromisery