歌手:David Bowie
歌詞出處:http://m.ssgv4xm.cn
bowie david young americans
young americans
they pulled in just behind the fridge, he lays he down, he frowns "gee my life's a funny thing, am i still too young?" he kissed her then and there, she took his ring, took his babies it took him minutes, took her no-where heaven knows, she'd've taken anything, but
{chorus,*she* version}
*she* wants the young american
but *she* wants the young american
scanning life through the picture window, she finds the slinky vagabond he coughs as he passes up her red mustang, but heaven forbid, she take anything but the freak, and his type, all for nothing, misses a step and cuts his hand. but showing nothing, he swoops like a song she cries "where have all papas' heroes gone?"
{chorus,*she* version}
all the way from washington, her bread-winner begs off the bathroom floor "we live for just these twenty years, do we have to die for the fifty more?", had
{chorus,*he* version}
*he* wants the young american
but *he* wants the young american
do you remember your president nixon? do you remember the bills you have to pay, or even yesterday?
have you have been an un-american? just you and your idol singing falsetto 'bout leather, leather everywhere, and not a myth left from the ghetto well, well, well, would you carry a razor in case, just in case of depression? sit on your hands on a bus of survivors, blushing at all the afro-sheila's ain't that close to love? well, ain't that poster love? well, it ain't that barbie doll, her heart's been broken just like you have
{chorus,*you* version}
*you* wants the young american
but *you* wants the young american
you ain't a pimp and you ain't a hustler a pimps' got a cadi and a lady got a chrysler blacks got respect, uhh, whites got his soul train mamas' got cramps, and look at your hands ache
i got a suite and you got defeat ain't there a man you can say no more?, and ain't there a woman i can sock on the jaw?, and ain't there a child i can hold without judging? ain't there a pen that will write before they die? ain't you proud that you've still got faces? ain't there one damn song that can make me break down and cry?
{chorus,*i* version}
*i* wants the young american
but *i* wants the young american
bowie david young americans
young americans
they pulled in just behind the fridge, he lays he down, he frowns "gee my life's a funny thing, am i still too young?" he kissed her then and there, she took his ring, took his babies it took him minutes, took her no-where heaven knows, she'd've taken anything, but
{chorus,*she* version} [all night] *she* wants the young american [young american, young american,*she* wants the young american] [all right] but *she* wants the young american
scanning life through the picture window, [doo-doo-doo-woo] she finds the slinky vagabond [doo-doo-doo-woo] he coughs as he passes up her red mustang, but heaven forbid, she take anything but the freak, and his type, all for nothing, [doo-doo-doo-woo] misses a step and cuts his hand. but [doo-doo-doo-woo] showing nothing, he swoops like a song she cries "where have all papas' heroes gone?"
{chorus,*she* version}
all the way from washington, her bread-winner begs off the bathroom floor "we live for just these twenty years, do we have to die for the fifty more?", had
{chorus,*he* version} [all night] *he* wants the young american [young american, young american,*he* wants the young american] [all right] but *he* wants the young american
do you remember your president nixon? [doo-doo-doo-woo] do you remember the bills you have to pay, or even yesterday?
have you have been an un-american? [doo-doo-doo-woo] just you and your idol singing falsetto [doo-doo-doo-woo]'bout leather, leather everywhere, and not a myth left from the ghetto well, well, well, would you carry a razor [doo-doo-doo-woo] in case, just in case of depression? [doo-doo-doo-woo] sit on your hands on a bus of survivors, blushing at all the afro-sheila's ain't that close to love? [doo-doo-doo-woo] well, ain't that poster love? [doo-doo-doo-woo] well, it ain't that barbie doll, her heart's been broken just like you have
{chorus,*you* version} [all night] *you* wants the young american [young american, young american,*you* wants the young american] [all right] but *you* wants the young american
you ain't a pimp and you ain't a hustler a pimps' got a cadi and a lady got a chrysler blacks got respect, uhh, whites got his soul train mamas' got cramps, and look at your hands ache [i heard the news today, oh boy] i got a suite and you got defeat ain't there a man you can say no more?, and ain't there a woman i can sock on the jaw?, and ain't there a child i can hold without judging? ain't there a pen that will write before they die? ain't you proud that you've still got faces? ain't there one damn song that can make me break down and cry?
{chorus,*i* version} [all night] *i* wants the young american [young american, young american,*i* wants the young american] [all right] but *i* wants the young american