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