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