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 a 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