The Next Day Look into my eyes he tells her I'm gonna say goodbye he says yea Do not cry she begs of him goodbye yea All that day she thinks of his love yea They whip him through the streets and alleys there The gormless and the baying crowd right there They can't get enough of that doomsday song They can't get enough of it all Listen Listen to the whores he tells her He fashions paper sculptures
![The Next Day — David Bowie](https://cdn-ak-scissors.b.st-hatena.com/image/square/517fd1ca2366170ce600efe2afc895f6dcc29215/height=288;version=1;width=512/http%3A%2F%2Fstatic1.squarespace.com%2Fstatic%2F5a70fa14e45a7c7dd2fadad0%2Ft%2F63c73ddd32c5d060f53b1b10%2F1674001885889%2FBowie_Tile.jpg%3Fformat%3D1500w)