کاور آهنگ Young Americans از د کور

Join the Dots: B-Sides and Rarities, 1978-2001 · 6:23

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برای مشاهده ترجمه ابتدا وارد شوید.

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

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 can take anything

But the freak and his type, all for nothing

He misses a step and cuts his hand

Showing nothing, he swoops like a song

She cries, "Where have all Papa's heroes gone?"

All night

She wants the young American

Young American, young American

She wants the young American

All right

She wants the young American

All the way from Washington

Her bread-winner begs off the bathroom floor

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, President Clinton?

Do you remember, Bill you have to pay?

Or even yesterday

Bein' 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 a case just in case of depression

Sit on your hands on a bus of survivors

Blushing at all the Afro-Sheilas

Ain't that close to love?

Ain't that poster love?

Well it ain't that Barbie doll

Her heart's 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're not a pimp and you're not a hustler

The pimp's got a Cadillac, the 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

[Incomprehensible]

I got a suite and you got defeat

Ain't there a man who can say no more?

Ain't there a woman I can sock on the jaw?

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?

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

Young American, young American

I want the young American

All night

Young American, young American

I want the young American

All right

Young American, young American, young American

I want the young American

I want the young American

I want the young American

I want the young American

I want the young American

Young American, young American

I want the young American

Young American, young American

I want the young American

Young American, young American

I want the young American

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