Pulp Follow

Oh, is this the way they say the future's meant to feel?
Or just 20,000 people standing in a field?
And I don't quite understand just what this feeling is
But that's okay cos we're all sorted out for E's and wizz
And tell me when the spaceship lands cos all this has just got to mean something

In the middle of the night
It feels alright
But then tommorow morning
Oh, then you come down

Oh yeah, the pirate radio told us what was going down
Got the tickets from some fucked up bloke in Camden Town
Oh and no-one seems to know exactly where it is
But that's okay cos we're all sorted out for E's and wizz
At 4 o'clock the normal world seems very, very, very far away
Alright

In the middle of the night
It feels alright
But then tommorow morning
Oh, then you come down

Just keep on moving

Everybody asks your name
They say we're all the same
and it's "nice one, geezer"
But that's as far as the conversation went
I lost my friends, I dance alone
it's six o'clock, I wanna go home
But it's "no way," "not today,"
makes you wonder what it meant
And this hollow feeling grows and
Grows and grows and grows
And you want to phone your mother and say
"Mother, I can never come home again,
Cos I seem to have left an important part of my brain Somewhere
Somewhere in a field in Hampshire."
Alright.

In the middle of the night
It feels alright
But then tommorow morning
Oh, then you come down

What if you never come down?