Видео
Видео
Создатели
ИСПОЛНИТЕЛИ
David Bowie
Вокал
Tony Visconti
Бас
John Lodge
Бас-гитара
John Cambridge
Барабаны
Mick Wayne
Гитара
Tim Renwick
Гитара
Benny Marshall
Губная гармошка
Херби Флауэрс
Бас
Keith Christmas
Акустическая гитара
МУЗЫКА И СЛОВА
David Bowie
Автор песен
Tony Visconti
Аранжировщик
ПРОДЮСЕРЫ И ЗВУКОРЕЖИССЕРЫ
Tony Visconti
Продюсер
Barry Sheffield
Инженер
Malcolm Toft
Инженер
Tim Renwick
Инженер
Ray Staff
Мастеринг-инженер
Кен Скотт
Инженер звукозаписи
Слова
[Verse 1]
Spy, spy, pretty girl, I see you see me through your window
Don't turn your nose up
Well, you can if you need to, you won't be the first or last
It must strain you to look down so far from your father's house
Well, I know what a louse like me in his house could do for you
I'm the cream of the great utopia dream
And you're the gleam in the depths of your banker's spleen
[Verse 2]
I'm a phallus in pigtails, and there's blood in my nose
And my tissue is rotting where the rats chew my bones
And my eye socket's empty, see nothing but pain
I keep having this brainstorm about twelve times a day
So now you could spend the morning walking with me quite amazed
'Cause I'm unwashed and somewhat slightly dazed
[Verse 3]
I've got eyes in my backside that see electric tomatoes
On credit card rye bread, there are children in washrooms
Holding hands with a queen and my head's full of murders
Where only killers scream
So now you could spend the morning talking with me quite amazed
And I'm raving mad and somewhat slightly dazed
[Verse 4]
Now, you run from your window to the porcelain bowl
And you're sick from your ears to the red parquet floor
And the Braque on the wall slides down your front
And eats through your belly, it's very catching
So, now, you should spend the morning
Lying to your father quite amazed
About the strange unwashed and happily slightly dazed
Written by: David Bowie