Why dont you go photograph Everything that ever passed in time, Indigenous traces, tribal chiefs, Vanishing hereditary lines, Poets gone wild on the
She's got everything On her mind He'll take anything He can find Small horizons Fill her life Got his eyes on Her in the sky Ultrasound Going down Underground
Suede, suede, suede Suede, you always felt like suede There are days I feel your twin Peekaboo hiding underneath your skin Jets are revving yes revving
L'avenir est trouble Et le passe troublant Moi je suis A meme a meme du present Comme la panthere Et comme l'elephant Je mene mon ame Pile dans l'instant
Why don't you go photograph everything that ever passed in time? Indigenous traces, tribal chiefs, vanishing hereditary lines Poets gone wild on the muse
Rye, Rye, Rocco Marco Esquandolas Been you to have any spike, man? Run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run Run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run Run,
Well, my, half bread, might be, warm a little to low You're too slow, what the fuck do you think that you know? I do so and every rhyme that I spit is
High on diesel and gasoline Psycho for drum machine Shaking their bits to the hits Drag acts, drug acts, suicides In your dad's suits you hide Staining
She can walk out anytime, anytime she wants to walk out, that's fine She can walk out anytime, anytime she feels that life has passed her by And when
Filmstar, propping up the bar, driving in a car, it looks so easy Filmstar, propping up the bar, driving in a car tonight Filmstar, giving it class, living
She, walking like a killer She, another night another pillow Nowhere places, nowhere faces, no one wants to see No education, it's the arse of the nation
And maybe we're just kids who've grown And maybe not And maybe when we're on our own But we don't have much But oh, we are young and not tired of it
She's star, starcrazy Electric shock bog brush hair Flat on her back in the 80s In the 90s going nowhere Star, starcrazy Got a kicking transistor inside
Well, maybe, maybe, it's the clothes we wear The tasteless bracelets and the dye in our hair Maybe it's our kookiness Or maybe, maybe, it's our nowhere
Watching all the women shaking, slimmin' Walking down the road again Looking at the lovers under covers Come in and let's be friends Watching all the
I feel real now walkin' like a woman and talkin' like a stone age man I feel real now talkin' like Buddha and doin' it again I get kicks, I rip it up,
Here they come with their make up on As lovely as the clouds come and see them Boys and girls and their mums and their words And their romances and jobs
I love that deafening thundering sound That sounds like buildings tumbling down And people wish that they weren't around When we all rock and roll into