We come undone in foreign parts Our home is heavy in our hearts But there’s a bubble in Karachi A Puerto Rican Joan and Chachi The spirit of this place has long gone In fact I think it never had one So terrible and out of place We’ve got the same decrepit stars
Got my papers and my ticket for the train To anywhere, anywhere (x2)
Got my papers Got my papers
We tread with people in their paths Follow their signs and mystic marks A mug of tea a cup of Sake A Virgin Mary with the Marquis By canoe and coracle I solely own my carryall Counting different coloured cars We’ve got the same decrepit Stars My plan has failed Tremblings of trails Yearning comforts of the dales
Got my papers Got my papers Got my papers Got my papers and my ticket for the train To anywhere, anywhere |
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