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    David Bowie
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    We Are The Dead

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    We Are The Dead
    Released


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      About "We Are The Dead"

      Lyrics for David Bowie - "We Are The Dead"

      Something kind of hit me today
      I looked at you and wondered if you saw things my way
      People will hold us to blame
      It hit me today, it hit me today

      We're taking it hard all the time
      Why don't we pass it by?
      Just reply, you've changed your mind
      We're fighting with the eyes of the blind
      Taking it hard, taking it hard

      Yet now
      We feel that we are paper, choking on you nightly
      They tell me "Son, we want you, be elusive, but don't walk far"
      For we're breaking in the new boys, deceive your next of kin
      For you're dancing where the dogs decay, defecating ecstasy
      You're just an ally of the leecher
      Locator for the virgin King, but I love you in your fuck-me pumps
      And your nimble dress that trails
      Oh, dress yourself, my urchin one, for I hear them on the rails
      Because of all we've seen, because of all we've said
      We are the dead

      One thing kind of touched me today
      I looked at you and counted all the times we had laid
      Pressing our love through the night
      Knowing it's right, knowing it's right

      Now I'm hoping some one will care
      Living on the breath of a hope to be shared
      Trusting on the sons of our love
      That someone will care, someone will care

      But now
      We're today's scrambled creatures, locked in tomorrow's double feature
      Heaven's on the pillow, its silence competes with hell
      It's a twenty-four hour service, guaranteed to make you tell
      And the streets are full of press men
      Bent on getting hung and buried
      And the legendary curtains are drawn 'round Baby Bankrupt
      Who sucks you while you're sleeping
      It's the theater of financiers
      Count them, fifty 'round a table
      White and dressed to kill

      Oh caress yourself, my juicy
      For my hands have all but withered
      Oh dress yourself my urchin one, for I hear them on the stairs
      Because of all we've seen, because of all we've said
      We are the dead
      We are the dead
      We are the dead

      SONGWRITERS:
      DAVID BOWIE /
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