David Bowie – Young Americans

A real classic for a Friday night.  David Bowie’s Young Americans.  Nothing beats this classic, that showed his diversity and ability to change through the Seventies.  Enjoy!

~RB~

They pulled in just behind the bridge
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, but

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’ll take anything
But the freak, and his type, all for nothing
Misses a step and cuts his hand, but
Showing nothing, he swoops like a song
She cries “Where have all Papa’s heroes gone?”

All night
She wants a 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
“We 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, your President Nixon?
Do you remember, the bills you have to pay
For even yesterday?

Have you have been an 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 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?
Well, ain’t that poster love?
Well, it ain’t that Barbie doll
Her heart’s been broken just like you have

All night
All night was a young American
Young American, young American, you want the young American
All right
All right you want the young American

You ain’t a pimp and you ain’t a hustler
A pimp’s got a Cadi and a 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
(I heard the news today, oh boy)
I got a suite and you got defeat
Ain’t there a man you can say no more?
And, ain’t there a woman I can sock on the jaw?
And, 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?

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 whoa whoa

Young American, young American
I want what you want
I want what you want
You want more
I want you
You want I
I want you
I want what you want
But you want what you want
You want I
I want you
And all I want is a young American
Young American

Songwriter: David Bowie.

 

Ted Mulry Gang – Jump In My Car

 

A Countdown classic from the 70’s.  Ted Mulry gang appeared at a floating music festival on the Sydney Harbour along with John Paul Young; another up and coming Australian performer of the day.  This song is called; “Jump in my car” which is the tale of a young bloke offering a hitchhiker a ride in his car, but the driver got more than he bargained for.

 

Jump in my car, I want to ta-ake you home
Mmm, jump in my car, it’s too far to walk on your ow-own
No thank you sir-ir
Ah, see’mon, I’m a trustworthy guy

No thank you sir-ir
Oh little girl I wouldn’t tell you no lie
I know your ga-ame
How can you say that, we only just met

You’re all the sa-ame
Ooh, she’s got me there, but I’ll get her yet
I got you there-ere
No you didn’t, I was catchin’ my breath

And look it’s startin’ to rain and baby you’ll catch your death
Well, I don’t know-ow
Ah, come on it costs nothin’ to try
And you’ll arrive ho-ome nice and dry

Mmm-mmm, jump in my car, I want to ta-ake you home
See’mon jump in my car, it’s too far to walk on your ow-own

Mmm-mmm, jump in my car, I want to ta-ake you home
See’mon jump in my car, it’s too far to walk on your ow-own
Well maybe I wi-ill
Ah, that’s better now, your talkin’ sense

Jeepers keep still
Well, if you like I’ll just put up a fence
No need to get smar-art
Well alright we’ll soon be on our-our way-ay

We better start
What for?
Because it’s such a long way-ay
Well, why, where d’you live

I live down south, it’s roughly eighty-four mi-iles
Hey slow down, you must be jokin’ there behind that cute smile
Oh, no I’m no-ot
Well, if you’re not there’s only one thing to say-ay

And what’s tha-at?
Get out the car, get on your way

Get out of my car
But you just said tha-at you’d take me home
Well, if it’s not too far-are
But there’s no way that I can get there alone

I couldn’t care less
Maybe I cou-ould see you next week
But you look a me-ess
Look who’s talkin’, you got no right to spea-ek

Get out of my car

You told me that you were a really nice guy

Well I ain’t

Yeah, get out of my car.

Get out, get out of my car.

 

 

 

 

The Police – Can’t stand losing

 

This week’s pick for my favorite song in the car is by the Police.  A 70’s classic with a real reggae sound to it.  Boy, it’s great for singing along too.

I’ve called you so many times today
And I guess it’s all true what your girl-friends say
That you don’t ever want to see me again
And your brother’s gonna kill me and he’s six feet ten

I guess you’d call it cowardice
But I’m not prepared to go on like this

I can’t, I can’t, I can’t stand losing
I can’t, I can’t, I can’t stand losing
I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, stand losing you
I can’t

I can’t stand losing you
I can’t stand losing you
I can’t stand losing you

I see you sent my letters back
And my L.P. records and they’re all scratched
I can’t see the point in another day
When nobody listens to a word I say

You can call it lack of confidence
But to carry on living doesn’t make no sense

I can’t, I can’t, I can’t stand losing
I can’t, I can’t, I can’t stand losing
I can’t, I can’t, I can’t stand losing

I can’t, I can’t, I can’t stand losing
I can’t, I can’t, I can’t stand losing
I can’t, I can’t, I can’t stand losing

I guess this is our last goodbye
And you don’t care, so I won’t cry
And you’ll be sorry when I’m dead
And all this guilt will be on your head

I guess you’d call it suicide
But I’m too full to swallow my pride

I can’t, I can’t, I can’t stand losing
I can’t, I can’t, I can’t stand losing
I can’t, I can’t, I can’t stand losing

I can’t, I can’t, I can’t stand losing
I can’t, I can’t, I can’t stand losing
I can’t, I can’t, I can’t stand losing

I can’t, I can’t, I can’t stand losing
I can’t, I can’t, I can’t stand losing
I can’t, I can’t, I can’t stand losing

I can’t, I can’t, I can’t stand losing
I can’t, I can’t, I can’t stand losing
I can’t, I can’t, I can’t stand losing

I can’t, I can’t, I can’t stand
Can’t stand losing you