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The Next Day

Artist:David Bowie  Album:The Next Day 

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"Look into my eyes," he tells her. "I'm gonna say goodbye," he says yeah "Do not cry," she begs of him goodbye yeah All that day she thinks of his love, yeah 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 river‘s 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 Its 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


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