Текст песни Bowie, David - Wood Jackson

- repeat
     (x12010)

Jackson made twenty tapes in a day
To give away,          a-give away
And he'd play
The tunes they'd call creative when they're running out of names
Heaven knows he's really torn it now
But the names, it hurt poor Jackson, stopped the haters in his way
Heaven knows he's for it
Sha-ame, hey, hey
He was never quite unsure, but really sane
Wants to play

Jackson stole twenty souls in a day
To take away,       a-take away
He takes away
And no complaints
Heart's upon his sleeve and his blade
Wood Jackson took the beating everyday, given out, passed away
Another way,          hey, hey

Just wants to play
And how he'd play
The mob, they bleed and tremble when they're running after life
Heaven knows he's really torn it now
The words that killed Wood Jackson's friends were written on the wall
   Heaven knows he's for it
Shame
Just wants to play
It's a shame
Shame
It's a shame
Wants to play
It's a shame
It's a shame
Just wants to play