Young Americans Lyrics - The Cure

They pulled in just behind the fridge 

He lays her down, he frowns 

Gee my life's a funny thing 

Am I still too young? 

He kissed her then and there 

She took his ring, took his babies 

It took him minutes, took her nowhere 

Heaven knows, she'd have taken anything 

All night 

She wants the young American 

Young American, young American 

She wants the young American 

All right 

She wants the young American 

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Scanning life through the picture window she 

Finds the slinky vagabond 

He coughs as he passes her Ford Mustang, but 

Heaven forbid, she can take anything 

But the freak and his type, all for nothing 

He misses a step and cuts his hand 

Showing nothing, he swoops like a song 

She cries, "Where have all Papa's heroes gone?" 

All night 

She wants the young American 

Young American, young American 

She wants the young American 

All right 

She wants the young American 

All the way from Washington 

Her bread-winner begs off the bathroom floor 

Live for just these twenty years 

Do we have to die for the fifty more? 

All night 

He wants the young American 

Young American, young American 

He wants the young American 

All right 

He wants the young American 

Do you remember, President Clinton? 

Do you remember, Bill you have to pay? 

Or even yesterday 

Bein' the un-American 

Just you and your idol singing falsetto 'bout 

Leather, leather everywhere and 

Not a myth left from the ghetto 

Well, well, well, would you carry a razor? 

In a case just in case of depression 

Sit on your hands on a bus of survivors 

Blushing at all the Afro-Sheilas 

Ain't that close to love? 

Ain't that poster love? 

Well it ain't that Barbie doll 

Her heart's been broken just like you 

All night 

You want the young American 

Young American, young American 

You want the young American 

All right 

You want the young American 

You're not a pimp and you're not a hustler 

The pimp's got a Cadillac, the lady got a Chrysler 

Black's got respect and white's got his soul train 

Mama's got cramps and look at your hands ache 

[incomprehensible] 

I got a suite and you got defeat 

Ain't there a man who can say no more? 

Ain't there a woman I can sock on the jaw? 

Ain't there a child I can hold without judging? 

Ain't there a pen that will write before they die? 

Ain't you proud that you've still got faces? 

Ain't there one damn song 

That can make me break down and cry? 

Break down and cry? 

All night 

I want the young American 

Young American, young American 

I want the young American 

All right 

I want the young American 

Young American, young American 

I want the young American 

All night 

Young American, young American 

I want the young American 

All right 

Young American, young American, young American 

I want the young American 

I want the young American 

I want the young American 

I want the young American 

I want the young American 

Young American, young American 

I want the young American 

Young American, young American 

I want the young American 

Young American, young American 

I want the young American