New Europeans

In a quiet street washed by the rain the room within the home

A lonely man sits cheek to cheek with unique designs in chrome

The mellow years have long gone by, but now he sits alone

He has a brand new radio, but never turns it on

New Europeans

Young Europeans

New Europeans

A photograph of lovers lost lies pressed in magazines

Her eyes belong to a thousand girls, she's the wife who's never seen

Their educated son has left in search of borrowed dreams

His television's in his bed, he's frozen to the screen

New Europeans

Young Europeans

New Europeans

On a crowded beach washed by the sun he puts his headphones on

His modern world revolves around the synthesizer's song

Full of future thoughts and thrills, his senses slip away

He's a European legacy, a culture for today

New Europeans

Young Europeans

New Europeans

Young Europeans