Pulp - Sorted For E's & Wizz

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

Oh, in the middle of the night
It feels alright, but then tomorrow morning
Oh, oh, then you come down, oh

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 'cause we're all sorted out for E's and wizz
At four o'clock the normal world seems very, very, very far away
All right In the middle of the night
It feels alright, but then tomorrow morning
Oh, oh, then you come down, oh

Just keep on moving

Everybody asks your name, they say we're all the same and now 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 want to 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 call your mother
And say "mother, I can never come home again
'Cause I seem to have left an important part of my brain somewhere
Somewhere in a field in Hampshire, all right"

In the middle of the night
It feels alright, but then tomorrow morning
Oh, oh, then you come down
Oh, oh, then you come down
Oh, what if you never come down?