Tytuł: Candidate

• Wykonawca: David Bowie
• Wyświetleń: 223

I'll make you a deal, like any other candidate
  
  We'll pretend we're walking home 'cause your future's at stake
  My set is amazing, it even smells like a
  street
  There's a bar at the end where I can meet you and your friend
  Someone scrawled on the wall "I smell the blood of les tricoteuses"
  Who wrote up scandals in other bars
  
  I'm having so much fun with the poisonous people
  Spreading rumours and lies and stories they made up
  
  Some make you sing and some make you scream
  One makes you wish that you'd never been seen
  But there's a shop on the corner that's selling papier mache
  Making bullet-proof faces, Charlie Manson, Cassius Clay
  If you want it, boys, get it here, thing
  So you scream out of line
  "I want you! I need you! Anyone out there?
  Any time?"
  Tres butch little number whines "Hey dirty, I want you
  When it's good, it's really good, and when it's bad I go to pieces"
  If you want it, boys, get it here, thing
  
  Well, on the street where you live I could not hold up my head
  For I put all I have in another bed
  On another floor, in the back of a car
  In the cellar like a church with the door ajar
  Well, I guess we've must be looking for a different kind
  
  But we can't stop trying 'til we break up our minds
  Til the sun drips blood on the seedy young knights
  Who press you on the ground while shaking in fright
  
  I guess we could cruise down one more time
  
  With you by my side, it should be fine
  
  We'll buy some drugs and watch a band
  
  Then jump in the river holding hands