Young Americans

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The Braids

Year:

1998

3:59

28 Views

Playlists:

#2

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They pulled in just behind the fridge
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 

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 
Misses a step and cuts his hand, but 
Showing nothing, he swoops like a song 
"Where have all Papa's heroes gone?" 

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 
Bread-winner begs off the bathroom floor 
"We live for just these twenty years 
Do we have to die for the fifty more?" 

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, the bills you have to pay 
Or even yesterday? 

Have you been an un-American? 
You were no idol singing falsetto
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 in a bus of survivors 
Blushing at all the afro-sheeners 
Ain't that close to love? 
Well, ain't that poster love? 
It ain't that Barbie doll 
Her heart's been broken just like you have 

All night
You want the young American 
Young American, young American, you want the young American 
All right 
You want the young American 
Well, you ain't a pimp and you ain't a hustler 
Mama's got cramps, and look at your hands ache 
I got a suite and you got defeat 
Ain't there a man you can say no more? 
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 just one song that will make you break down and cry? 

All night 
Young American, young American, you want the young American 
All right 
Young American, young American, you want the young American

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