Friday, September 02, 2005
Friar Couscous, the full-fat alternative, recently unearthed yet another top quality Berlin-era Bowie lyric:
The Pacific and its Indian brother
Seven seas for severed lovers
I thumb through guides and minibars
Wondering how I have come this far
Swiss chocolate days and impossible nights
The Alpine sleigh, the Italian sights
Rome has a hold on my secret desires
Let the Tiber’s waters wash over your fire!
Still I come to the Lebanon
In Arabian garb under cover of gun
A passport, a name, a stamp on a file
I’ll slip you the codes as we cover the miles
Desert sun through a Panama’s shade
As I head to the Veldt on safari again
The best of the big game will meet you in the eye
The flick of the knife, our jungle-love dies
Oh I’m an international man
An inter-, an inter-national man of the world
Oh, I’m an international man
Crossed hearts and borders
A lost hotel hero
I feel my world turning
Your kisses still burning!
For ever and ever more,
I just keep on the move –
An inter-national man of the world.
|
The Pacific and its Indian brother
Seven seas for severed lovers
I thumb through guides and minibars
Wondering how I have come this far
Swiss chocolate days and impossible nights
The Alpine sleigh, the Italian sights
Rome has a hold on my secret desires
Let the Tiber’s waters wash over your fire!
Still I come to the Lebanon
In Arabian garb under cover of gun
A passport, a name, a stamp on a file
I’ll slip you the codes as we cover the miles
Desert sun through a Panama’s shade
As I head to the Veldt on safari again
The best of the big game will meet you in the eye
The flick of the knife, our jungle-love dies
Oh I’m an international man
An inter-, an inter-national man of the world
Oh, I’m an international man
Crossed hearts and borders
A lost hotel hero
I feel my world turning
Your kisses still burning!
For ever and ever more,
I just keep on the move –
An inter-national man of the world.
|
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