Where have all the decadent icons gone?
To be replaced by the rubes I see on reality T.V
I need a Burmese girl, vital and true
Who's eyes only ever lie in lush fields
Who's blue heart is a zoo
Who sings Elysian airs and loves the Dutch too

Smoking opium
Yeah, I'm going to Thailand
And I'm not coming back
Yeah, I'm going to Thailand
And I'm not coming back

Yes, I'd steal poppies at this stage, from veterans
For dissipation
I want to built a brocade curtained pleasure palace in your heart
Fuck the fuck Taliban and Yves Saint Laurent
Right on!

I see lovely loose limbs
On velvet cushions
Draped from high Shenisms
Recumbent on exotic concubines of sweet, dark intoxication
Strangely ancient Andalusian art

Smoking opium
Yeah, I'm going to Thailand
And I'm not coming back
Yeah, I'm going to Thailand
And I'm not coming back

I wish I was born a thousand years ago
And lived until a hundred
I'd have had my own British clipper ship
And all the teas and spices I'd need
To trade and ply you with
But of all this is of the past
Or will come to pass
Or one
Or both
Or neither
I'll always remember you, indolent, burning josh sticks
To satisfy the loss of nostalgia in me
When I couldn't see if I was a lunatic or a genuine seeker
A genuine seeker

Smoking opium
Yeah, I'm going to Thailand
And I'm not coming back
Yeah, I'm going to Thailand
And I'm not coming back

Yaabaa!
Crazy medicine!
"When Fay gets his hands on some wild dagga, I'll go"

Where have all the decadent icons gone?
To be replaced by the plates of crackers I see on MTV
I need a Burmese girl, like Rocio, vital and true
Who's eyes only ever lie in lush fields
Who's blue heart is a zoo
Who sings Elysian airs and loves the Dutch too
Loves the Dutch
She loves the Dutch too

Smoking opium
Yeah, I'm going to Thailand
And I'm not coming back
Yeah, I'm going to Thailand
And I'm not coming back

Bye, bye, bye, bye, bye, bye baby