Young Americans

(David Bowie)

They pulled in just behind the fridge
He lays her 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 nowhere
Heaven knows, she'd have taken anything, but

  All night
  She wants the young American
  Young American, young American, she wants the young, young American
  All right
  But she wants the young American

Scanning life through the picture window
Finds a slinky vagabond
He coughs as he passes a Ford Mustang, but
Heaven forbid, she'll 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 Papa's heroes gone?"


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 have?"

  All night
  He wants the young American
  Young American, young American, he wants the young American
  Well 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 been the 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-Sheeners
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

  All night
  You want the young American
  Young American, young American, you want the young American
  You want the young American

You ain't a pimp, you ain't a hustler
A pimp's got a Caddy and a lady got a Chrysler
Black's got respect and white's got his soul train
Mama's got cramps and look at your hands shake
  (I heard the news today, oh boy)
I got a suite and you got defeat an'
Ain't there a man who can say no more? An'
Ain't there a woman I can sock on the jaw? An'
Ain't there a child I can love without judging?
Ain't there a pen that will write before they die?
Ain't you proud that you've struck our faces?
Ain't there one damn song that can make me break down and cry?

CHORUS (I)  (repeat 3 times ad lib)
  All night
  I want the young American
  Young American, young American, I want the young American
  All right
  I want the young American