Young Americans
David Bowie
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Intro: ( G Am C D ) x4G They pulled in just behind theAm bridge, he lays her down, he frownsC D "Gee my life's a funny thing, am I still too young?"G He kissed her then and there, sheAm took his ring, took his babiesC It took him minutes, took herD nowhere, heaven knows she'd 've taken anything, butC D All night, she wants the youngG American, young American, youngAm AmericanC She wants the young American, allD right, she wants the young AmericanG Scanning life through the pictureAm window, she finds the slinky vagabondC He coughs as he passes her FordD Mustang, but heaven forbid she'll take anythingG But the freak and his type, allAm for nothing, he misses a step and cuts his hand butC Showing nothing, he swoops like aD song, she cries, "where have all Papa's heroes gone?"C D All night, she wants the youngG American, young American, youngAm American She wants the young American, it'sC D all right, she wants the young AmericanContinúa después del anuncioG All the way from Washington, herAm bread-winner begs off the bathroom floorC We live for just these twentyD years, do we have to die for the fifty more?"C D All night, he wants the youngG American, young American, youngAm AmericanC He wants the young American, allD right, he wants the young American Interlude: (Em - D C - D) x2Em Bm G Do you remember, your PresidentD Em Bm Nixon? do you remember the billsC you have to pay?B Or even yesterday? Break: A Bm C - D Bm EA Bm Have you been the un-American, just you and your idol sing falsetto 'boutD Leather, leather everywhere, and notE a myth left from the GhettoA Well, well, well would you carry aBm razor, in a case, just in case of depression?D Sit on your hands on a bus ofE survivors, blushing at all the afro-sheenersA Ain't that close to love? wellBm ain't that poster love?D Well it ain't that Barbie Doll, herE heart's been broken just like youD E All night, you want the youngA American, young American, youngBm American You want the young American, it'sD E all right, you want the young AmericanA You ain't a pimp and you ain't aBm hustler, a pimps got a Caddy and lady got a ChryslerD Black's got respect, white's gotE his Soul Train, Mama's got cramps and look at your hands shakeA Bm "I heard the news today, oh boy" I got a suite and you got defeatD Ain't there a man, who could sayE no more? and ain't there a woman I can sock on the jaw?A Ain't there a child, I can hold without judging?Bm Ain't there a pen that will write before they die?D Ain't you proud that you've still got faces? E (NC) And ain't there one damn song that can make me, break down and cry?D E All night, I want the youngA American, young American, youngBm American,I want the young American