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I went Euromad out on the road last fallBetween the Roman churches and the German music hallsWere it not for Mr. Gordon and his fine distilleryI might have never got this far, it would be all the same to meIt started in Bologna when I stepped between the lightsI thought I'd lost my charisma my life flashed before my eyesThe communists rejected me, I didn't fit their planAnd anyway I must assume they're anti-AmericanIt might have been Geneva in a darkened discothequeAnd though I met Sophia, I still got it in the neckA journalist he spied on me like I always knew they wouldHe wrote me off like a business trip I felt deeply misunderstoodOr maybe it was Paris blazing dignity and prideIt's a city full of heiresses where I very nearly diedI woke up in the circus with a whistling in my earsI'm ready for the antidote can you tell me what it isI went Euromad out on the road last fallBetween the Roman churches and the German music hallsWere it not for Mr. Gordon and his fine distilleryI might have never made it through this EuromiseryWere it not for Mr. Gordon and his fine distilleryI might have never made it through this Euromisery |