Hey, Mom! The Explanation.

Here's the permanent dedicated link to my first Hey, Mom! post and the explanation of the feature it contains.

Wednesday, February 3, 2016

The Daily Bowie #14 - "Young Americans"


The Daily Bowie #14 - "Young Americans"

I considered choosing another song from this album, but this song has been such an anthem in my life, I will save other selections for another time. After all, I am starting to put more thought into these selections as I choose one song from each album for the first 27 entries (and I am halfway there). For example, had I been thinking, I would have chosen "Sense of Doubt" for Heroes as that's the song I used for the name of this blog!

The lyrics for this song always spoke to me.

"Ain't there one damn song that can make me break down and cry?"

SOME LINKS

DAVID BOWIE WIKI

YOUNG AMERICAN WIKI

DAVID BOWIE DISCOGRAPHY

PUSHING AHEAD OF THE DAME ON YOUNG AMERICANS


"YOUNG AMERICANS" - FROM YOUNG AMERICANS (1975)

LIVE on the Dick Cavett Show (1974)




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"Young Americans"



They pulled in just behind the bridge
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 American
All right
She wants the young American

Scanning life through the picture
window
She finds the slinky vagabond
He coughs as he passes her Ford
Mustang, but
Heaven forbid, she'll take anything
But the freak, and his type, all for
nothing
He 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?"

All night
He wants the young American
Young American, young American,
he wants the young American
All right
He wants the young American

Do you remember, your President Nixon?
Do you remember, the bills you have to pay?
Or even yesterday?
Have been the un-American?
Just you and your idol sing 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 hearts have been broken just like you

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

You ain't a pimp and you ain't a hustler
A pimp's got a Cadi 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 ache
(I heard the news today, oh boy)
I got a suite and you got defeat
Ain't there a man who 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?

All night
I want the young American
Young American, young American, I want the young American
All right
I want the young American

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- Bloggery committed by chris tower - 1602.03 - 8:36
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