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DAVID BOWIE lyrics : "I'd Rather Be High"

Nabokov is sun-licked now
Upon the beach at Gruenewald
Brilliant and naked just

The way that authors look

Clare and Lady Manners drink

Until the other cows go home
Gossip till their lips are bleeding politics and all


I'd rather be high
I'd rather be flying
I'd rather be dead or out of my head

Than training these guns on those men in the sand
I'd rather be high


The Thames was black, the tower dark
I flew to Cairo, find my regiment
City's full of generals

And generals full of %#@!
I stumble to the graveyard and I lay down by my parents,
Whisper "Just remember duckies--

Everybody gets got"

I'd rather be high

I'd rather be flying
I'd rather be dead or out of my head
Than training these guns of those men in the sand

I'd rather be high

I'm seventeen and my looks can prove it

I'm so afraid that I will lose it
I'd rather smoke and phone my ex
Be pleading for some teenage sex, yeah


I'd rather be high
I'd rather be flying

I'd rather be dead or out of my head
Than training these guns on the men in the sand
I'd rather be high,

I'd rather be high...

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