Interpret:

David Bowie

Album:

Diamond Dogs

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