Rod Stewart

Spent some time feelin' inferior
standing in front of my mirror
Combed my hair in a thousand ways
but I came out looking just the same
Daddy said, Son, you better see the world
I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to leave
But remember one thing don't lose your head
to a woman that'll spend your bread
So I got out
Paris was a place you could hide away
if you felt you didn't fit in
French police wouldn't give me no peace
They claimed I was a nasty person
Down along the Left Bank minding my own
Was knocked down by a human stampede
Got arrested for inciting a peacful riot
when all I wanted was a cup of tea
I was accused
I moved on
Down in Rome I wasn't getting enough
of the things that keeps a young man alive
My body stunk but I kept my funk
at a time when I was right out of luck
Getting desperate indeed I was
Looking like a tourist attraction
Oh my dear I better get out of here
'for the Vatican don't give no sanction