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 their things
When there's no ones around
We'll be high as kings
Without the things
The jewels and gold

I'm rolling down, I'm rolling down to my hotel between the lines
The paper-boy still looks the same as the old get old and the young are feeling fine
A soldier came knocked down my walls, 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
The 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
The jewels and gold