Clásicos del pop, rock, soul y otros que me gustan y espero que te gusten...Classics of pop, rock, soul and others that I like and I hope you like them...Классика поп, рок, душа и другие, которые мне нравятся, и я надеюсь, что они вам нравятся...Klassiker von Pop, Rock, Soul und anderen, die ich mag und ich hoffe du magst sie...Classiques de pop, rock, soul et autres que j'aime et j'espère que vous les aimez...
En algunos casos, tenían una clara influencia pop y de los sonidos ochenteros, quizás por los grupos con los que había tocado Belew como Talking Heads, David Bowie o Frank Zappa y el trabajo de Levin como músico de sesión de Peter Gabriel, entre otros muchos, y de cuya banda forma parte hasta el momento.
No por ello dejan de ser composiciones elaboradas y vanguardistas interpretadas con un nivel técnico considerable, como podemos ver en este Heartbeat.
Extraído como el single principal del álbum Scary Monster, esta es la versión corta, para sonar en la radio como es habitual; la del disco es un poco más larga.
Do you remember a guy that's been In such an early song? I've heard a rumor from Ground Control Oh no, don't say it's true
They got a message from the Action Man "I'm happy, hope you're happy too I've loved all I've needed, love Sordid details following"
The shrieking of nothing is killing, just Pictures of Jap girls in synthesis and I Ain't got no money and I ain't got no hair But I'm hoping to kick but the planet it's glowing
Ashes to ashes, funk to funky We know Major Tom's a junkie Strung out in heaven's high Hitting an all-time low
Time and again I tell myself I'll stay clean tonight But the little green wheels are following me Oh no, not again I'm stuck with a valuable friend "I'm happy, hope you're happy too" One flash of light but no smoking pistol
I never done good things (I never done good things) I never done bad things (I never done bad things) I never did anything out of the blue, woh-o-oh Want an axe to break the ice Wanna come down right now
Ashes to ashes, funk to funky We know Major Tom's a junkie Strung out in heaven's high Hitting an all-time low
My mother said, to get things done You'd better not mess with Major Tom
My mother said, to get things done You'd better not mess with Major Tom
My mother said, to get things done You'd better not mess with Major Tom
My mother said, to get things done You'd better not mess with Major Tom
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 chorus (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?" chorus (she) 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?" chorus (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 chorus (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? chorus (i) (repeat 3 times) all night i want the young american young american, young american, i want the young american all right i want the young american
