David Bowie - Ricochet / 1983

David Bowie - Ricochet

Versuri/text:

Like weeds on a rock face
Waiting for the scythe
Ricochet, Ricochet.
The world is on a corner
Waiting for jobs
Ricochet, Ricochet
Turn the holy pictures
So they face the wall

And who can bear to be forgotten
And who can bear to be forgotten

March of flowers march of dimes
These are the prisons, these are the crimes

Men wait for news while
thousands are still asleep.
Dreaming of tramlines
Factories, pieces of machinery
Mine shafts, things like that

March of flowers march of dimes
These are the prisons
these are the crimes
Sound of thunder, sound of gold
breaking parole
Ricochet. It's not the end of the world
Sound of thunder sound of gold
breaking parole
Ricochet, Ricochet
These are the prisons these are the crimes
Teaching life in a violent new way
Ricochet, Ricochet
Turn the holy pictures so they face the wall

Who can bear to be forgotten
Who can bear to be forgotten

March of flowers, march of dimes
These are the prisons these are the crimes

Early before the sun
They struggle of to the gates
In their secret fearful places
They see their lives
Unraveling before them

March of flowers, march of dimes
These are the prisons these are the crimes

Sound of thunder sound of gold
Sound of the devil
breaking parole
Ricochet
It's not the end of the world

But when they get home
Damp eyed and weary
They smile and crush their children
To their heavy chests
Making unfulfillable promises

For who can bear to be forgotten.