or
Graham Nash

I took a train to the Berlin station.
Rendez vous with a Paraguayan agent.
He had the film, I had the vault-key.
I checked the stills, that's when he caught me.

A sudden blow from behind.
A perfumed note saying,
Better luck next time.

We met again at a Turkish bath in Turkey.
On the trail of a smacked-out Iraqi.
He had the name of a dame from the K.G.B.
Who knew that you were doing some work for me.
You scrubbed his back, I bugged the tub.
He spilled the beans and you pulled the plug.

'See you in Prague, my love,' she said.
'See you in Prague, we'll go to bed,
And then we'll disappear into the fog,
See you in Prague.'

On the run from the Cuban secret service
Major Cruz was a man with a purpose.
He ran me down to a hotel in Geneva.
You checked in he was poised with a cleaver.

One little job his eyes rolled back.
Curare looked just like a heart attack.

'See you in Prague, my love,' she said.
'See you in Prague, we'll go to bed,
And then we'll disappear into the fog,
See you in Prague.'

You have this habit of turning up
In Budapest, Suez, Nicaragua.

'See you in Prague, my love,' she said.
'See you in Prague, we'll go to bed,
And then we'll disappear into the fog,
See you in Prague.'

Written by SIGERSON, DAVITT / ZITO, RICHIE
Published by Universal Music Publishing Group

Lyrics Provided By LyricFind Inc.