Supergrass

In a foreign town with a morning sound man
I can find my way around
Soon be here at the photo lab I guess
Armageddon coming down
And here lies a greedy state again
Trying to make a move on
Cos in three days I'll be out of here
And it's not a day too soon
Firelight, the light of love, burns
Turns to ashes in your hand
... by the morning light I guess
Rather than waking on the stand
Set sail for St. Petersburg