Democratic License by Edward Drobinski - HTML preview
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David Bowie
You've got your mother in a whirl
‘Cause she's not sure if you're a boy or a girl Hey babe, your hair's alright
Hey babe, let's go out tonight
You like me, and I like it all
We like dancing and we look divine
You love bands when they're playing hard You want more and you want it fast They put you down, they say I'm wrong You tacky thing, you put them on
Rebel rebel, you've torn your dress Rebel rebel, your face is a mess
Rebel rebel, how could they know?
Hot tramp, I love you so
Don't ya?
You've got your mother in a whirl 'cause she's Not sure if you're a boy or a girl Hey babe, your hair's alright
Hey babe, let's stay out tonight
You like me, and I like it all
We like dancing and we look divine You love bands when they're playing hard You want more and you want it fast They put you down, they say I'm wrong You tacky thing, you put them on
Rebel rebel, you've torn your dress Rebel rebel, your face is a mess
Rebel rebel, how could they know?
Hot tramp, I love you so!
Don't ya?
Oh!
Rebel rebel, you've torn your dress Rebel rebel, your face is a mess
Rebel rebel, how could they know?
Hot tramp, I love you so
You've torn your dress, your face is a mess You can't get enough, but enough ain't the test You've got your transmission and your live wire You got your cue line and a handful of ludes You wanna be there when they count up the dudes And I love your dress
You're a juvenile success
Because your face is a mess
So how could they know?
I said, how could they know?
So what you wanna know?
Calamity's child, chi-chile, chi-chile Where'd you wanna go?
What can I do for you?
Looks like you've been there too
'Cause you've torn your dress
And your face is a mess
Ooh, your face is a mess
Ooh, ooh, so how could they know?
Eh, eh, how could they know?