David Bowie ☆ The Next Day

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
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
Its 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
Its 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
Its branches throwing shadows on
the gallows for me
And the next day
And the next
And another day