Young Americans - Durand Jones & The Indications

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