| 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
|
| (She)
|
| 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
|
| He misses a step and cuts his hand, but
|
| Showing nothing, he swoops like a song
|
| She cries «where have all papa’s heroes gone?»
|
| (She)
|
| All night
|
| She wants the 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?»
|
| (He)
|
| 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
|
| Or 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
|
| (You)
|
| All night
|
| You want the young american
|
| Young american, young american, you want the young american
|
| 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?
|
| (I)
|
| All night
|
| I want the young american
|
| Young american, young american, i want the young american
|
| All right
|
| I want the young american |