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Blur: On Your Own

Holy man tiptoed his way across the Ganges.
The sound of magic music in his ears.
Videoed by a bus load of tourists.
Shiny shellsuits on, and drinking lemonade.
Now, I've got a funny feeling which I bought mail order.
From a man in a tee-pee, California.
Said he once was that great game show performer.
Then he blew all his money away, he blew it all away.

So take me home, don't leave me alone.
I'm not that good, but I'm not that bad.
No psycho killer, hooligan guerilla
I dream to riot, oh you should try it.
R.E. Perot, get gold card soul.
My joy of life is on a roll.
And we'll all be the same in the end.
Then you're on your own.
Then you're on your own.

Well, we all go happy day-glo in the disco.
The sound of magic music in our brains.
Someone stumbles to the bathroom with the horrors
Says Lord, give me time, for I've jumped into space
I'm in outer space