We Are the Dead David Bowie
WE ARE THE DEAD from Diamond Dogs
INTRO: Gm Bb F
[Gm] [Bb] [F]
[Gm]Something kind of [Bb]hit me to[F]day, I looked at you and
[Dm]Wondered if you [D]saw things my [Eb]way[Bb]
[F]People will [D]hold us to [Gm]blame
It [Gm7]hit me to[Eb]day, it [C]hit me to[F]day
We're [Gm]taking it [Bb]hard all the [F]time
Why don't we pass it [Dm]by, just [D]reply you've [Eb]changed your mind[Bb]
We're [F]fighting with the [D]eyes of the [Gm]blind
[Gm7]Taking it [Eb]hard, [C]taking it [F]hard, yet [Eb]now[Dm] [Bb]
We [Ab]feel that we are [Gb]paper, [F]choking on you night[C]ly
They [Bb]tell me son, we [Ab]want you, be e[Gb]lusive, but don't [F]walk far
For we're [C]breaking in the [Bb]new boys, [Ab]deceive your next of [Gb]kin
For you're [F]dancing where the [C]dogs decay, [Bb]defecating [Ab]ecstasy
You're just an [Gb]ally of the [F]leecher
Lo[C]cator for the [Bb]virgin King, but I [Ab]love you in your [Gb]fuck me pumps
And your [F]nimble dress that [C]trails
Oh, [Bb]dress yourself, my [Ab]urchin one, for I [Gb]hear them on the [F]rails
Because of [C]all we've seen[Bb], because of [Ab]all we've said
[Gb]We are the [D]dea[C]d[D] [C]
[Gm]One thing kind of [Bb]touched me to[F]day
I looked at you and [Dm]counted all the[D] times we had[Eb] lai[Bb]d
[F]Pressing our [D]love through the [Gm]night
[Gm7]Knowing it's [Eb]right, [C]knowing it's [F]right
[Gm]Now I'm hoping [Bb]some one will [F]care
Living on the [Dm]breath of a [D]hope to be [Eb]shared[Bb]
[F]Trusting on the [D]sons of our [Gm]love
That [Gm7]someone will [Eb]care, [C]someone will [F]care, but [Eb]now[Dm] [Bb]
We're to[Ab]day's scrambled [Gb]creatures, [F]locked in tomorrow's double [C]feature
[Bb]Heaven's on the [Ab]pillow, its [Gb]silence competes [F]with hell
It's a [C]twenty four hour [Bb]service, guaran[Ab]teed to make you [Gb]tell
And the [F]streets are full of [C]press men
Bent on [Bb]getting hung and [Ab]buried
And the [Gb]legendary [F]curtains are [C]drawn round Baby [Bb]Bankrupt
Who [Ab]sucks you while you're [Gb]sleeping
It's the [F]theater of fi[C]nanciers
Count them, [Bb]fifty round a [Ab]table
[Gb]White and dressed to [F]kill
Oh ca[C]ress yourself, my [Bb]juicy
For my [Ab]hands have all but [Gb]withered
Oh [F]dress yourself my [C]urchin one, for I [Bb]hear them on the [Ab]stairs
Because of [Gb]all we've seen[F]
[C]Because of [Bb]all we've said
[D]We are the [C]dead[D]
[C]We are the [D]dead[C] [D]
[C]We are the [D]dead[C] [D] [C]
OUTRO: Gm Bb F
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