I went Euro mad 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 got this far, it would be all the same to me
It started in Bologna when I stepped between the lights
I thought I'd lost my charisma, my life flashed before my eyes
The communists rejected me, I didn't fit their plan
And anyway I must assume they're anti-American
We met up in Geneva in a darkened discotheque
And though I'd 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 Euro mad 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 Euro misery
Were it not for Mr. Gordon and his fine distillery
I might have never made it through this Euro misery
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