David Bowie "I'd Rather Be High" Слова пісні

I'd Rather Be High

Nabokov is sun-licked nowUpon the beach at GrunewaldBrilliant and naked justThe way that authors look

Clare and Lady Manners drinkUntil the other cows go homeGossip till their lips are bleedingPolitics and all

I'd rather be highI'd rather be flyingI'd rather be deadOr out of my headThan training these guns on those men in the sandI'd rather be high

The Thames was black, the tower darkI flew to Cairo, find my regimentCity's full of generalsAnd generals full of shit

I stumble to the graveyard and ILay down by my parents, whisperJust remember duckiesEverybody gets got

I'd rather be highI'd rather be flyingI'd rather be deadOr out of my headThan training these guns on those men in the sandI'd rather be high

I'm seventeen my looks can prove itI'm so afraid that I will lose itI'd rather smoke and phone my exBe pleading for some teenage sex,Yeah

I'd rather be highI'd rather be flyingI'd rather be deadOr out of my headThan training these guns on the men in the sandI'd rather be high