The Next Day (Album Version) - David Bowie (大卫·鲍伊)

Look into my eyes he tells her

I'm gonna say goodbye he says yea

Do not cry she begs of him goodbye yea

All that day she thinks of his love yea

They whip him through the streets and alleys there

The gormless and the baying crowd right there

They can't get enough of that doomsday song

They can't get enough of it all

Listen

Listen to the whores he tells her

He fashions paper sculptures of them

Then drags them to the rivers bank in the cart

Their soggy paper bodies wash ashore in the dark

And the priest stiff in hate now demanding fun begin

Of his women dressed as men for the pleasure of that priest

Here I am

Not quite dying

My body left to rot in a hollow tree

It's branches throwing shadows

On the gallows for me

And the next day

And the next

And another day

Ignoring the pain of their particular diseases

They chase him through the alleys chase him down the steps

They haul him through the mud and they chant for his death

And drag him to the feet of the purple headed priest

First they give you everything that you want

Then they take back everything that you have

They live upon their feet and they die upon their knees

They can work with satan while they dress like the saints

They know god exists for the devil told them so

They scream my name aloud down into the well below

Here I am

Not quite dying

My body left to rot in a hollow tree

It's branches throwing shadows

On the gallows for me

And the next day

And the next

And another day

Here I am

Not quite dying

My body left to rot in a hollow tree

It's branches throwing shadows

On the gallows for me

And the next day

And the next

And another day

Here I am

Not quite dying

My body left to rot in a hollow tree

It's branches throwing shadows

On the gallows for me

And the next day

And the next

And another day