The Man Who Sold The World
----------------------------------------------------

Produced by Tony Visconti

David Bowie: vocals, guitar
Mick Ronson: guitar
Tony Visconti: bass
Mick Woodmansey: drums
Ralph Mace: synthesizer


    (Bowie)

    We passed upon the stair,
    we spoke of was and when
    Although I wasn't there,
    he said I was his friend
    Which came as some surprise
    I spoke into his eyes
    I thought you died alone,
    a long long time ago

    Oh no, not me
    I never lost control
    You're face to face
    With The Man Who Sold The World

    I laughed and shook his hand,
    and made my way back home
    I searched for form and land,
    for years and years I roamed
    I gazed a gazely stare at all the millions
    here
    We must have died along,
    a long long time ago

    Who knows? not me
    We never lost control
    You're face to face
    With the Man who Sold the Wo

Song For Bob Dylan
------------------------------------------------------

Produced by Ken Scott
All songs written by David Bowie except
"Fill Your Heart" by Biff Rose and Paul Williams.

David Bowie: Vocals, Guitar, Sax, Piano
Mick Ronson: guitar
Rick Wakeman: piano
Trevor Bolder: bass
Mick Woodmansey: drums

    (Bowie)

    Hear this Robert Zimmer
    About a strange young man called Dylan
    With a voice like sand and glue
    His words in truthful vengeance
    Could pin us to the floor
    Brought a few more people on
    And put the fear in a whole lot more

    Ah, Here she comes
    Here she comes
    Here she comes again
    The same old painted lady
    From the brow of a superbrain
    She'll scratch this world to pieces
    As she comes on like a friend
    But a couple of songs

Ziggy Stardust
-------------------------------------------------

    (Bowie)

    Ziggy played guitar,
    jamming good with Weird and Gilly
    The spiders from Mars.
    He played it left hand,
    But made it too far,
    Became the special man,
    then we were Ziggy's band.

    Ziggy really sang,
    screwed up eyes and screwed down hairdo
    Like some cat from Japan,
    he could lick 'em by smiling
    He could leave 'em to hang
    Came on so loaded man,
    well hung and snow white tan.

    So where were the spiders while
    the fly tried to break our balls
    Just the beer light to guide us,
    So we bitched about his fans and
    should we crush his sweet hands?

    Ziggy played for time,
    living us that we were voodoo
    The kids were just crass,
    he was the nazz
    With God given ass
    He took it all too far but
    boy could he play guitar.

    Making love with his ego
    Ziggy sucked up into his mind
    Like a leper messiah
    When the kids had killed the man
    I had to break up the band.

Rebel Rebel
---------------------------------------------------------

Tony Newman: Drums
Aynsley Dunbar: Drums
Herbie Flowers: Bass
Mike Garson: Keyboards
Bowie: Guitar, Saxes, Moog and Mellotron

Written, arranged and produced by Bowie
Engineer: Keith Harwood


    (Bowie)

    You've got your mother in a whirl
    She's not sure if you're a boy or a girl
    Hey babe, your hair's alright
    Hey babe, let's go out tonight
    You like me, and I like it all
    We like dancing and we look divine
    You love bands when they're playing hard
    You want more and you want it fast
    They put you down, they say I'm wrong
    You tacky thing, you put them on

    Rebel Rebel, you've torn your dress
    Rebel Rebel, your face is a mess
    Rebel Rebel, how could they know?
    Hot tramp, I love you so!
    Don't ya?

    You've torn your dress, your face is a mess
    You can't get enough, but enough ain't the
    test
    You've got your transmission and your live
    wire
    You got your cue line and a handful of ludes
    You wanna be there when they count up the
    dudes
    And I love your dress

1984
---------------------------------------------------

Tony Newman: Drums
Aynsley Dunbar: Drums
Herbie Flowers: Bass
Mike Garson: Keyboards
Bowie: Guitar, Saxes, Moog and Mellotron

Written, arranged and produced by Bowie
Engineer: Keith Harwood


    (Bowie)

    Someday they won't let you,
    so now you must agree
    The times they are a-telling,
    and the changing isn't free
    You've read it in the tea leaves,
    and the tracks are on TV
    Beware the savage jaw
    Of 1984

    They'll split your pretty cranium,
    and fill it full of air
    And tell that you're eighty,
    but brother, you won't care
    You'll be shooting up on anything,
    tomorrow's never there
    Beware the savage jaw
    Of 1984

    Come see, come see, remember me?
    We played out an all night movie role
    You said it would last, but I guess we
    enrolled
    In 1984 (who could ask for more)
    1984

Young Americans
-------------------------------------------------------------

Drums: Dennis Davis, Andy Newmark
Bass: Emir Ksasan, Willy Weeks
Guitar: Carlos Alomar, Bowie, John Lennon, Earl Slick
Keyboards: Bowie, Michael Garson
Saxophones: David Sanborn
Percussion: Ralph McDonald, Pablo Rosario, Larry Washington
Vocal Backups: Bowie, Ava Cherry, Robin Clark, Jean Fineberg
Antony Hinton, John Lennon, Jean Millington, Warren Peace,
Diane Sumler, Luther Wandross

Produced and mixed by Bowie, Tony Visconti and Harry Maslin at:
Sigma Sound, Engineer Carl Parulow
Electric Lady, Engineer Eddie Kramer
Record Plant, Engineer Harry Maslin

    (Bowie)

    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,
    but

    All night
    She wants the Young American
    Young American, Young American, she
    wants the Young American
    All right
    She wants the young American

    Scanning life through the picture window
    She finds the slinky vagabond
    He coughs as he passes her Ford
    Mustang, but
    Heaven forbid, she'll take anything
    But the freak, and his type, all for nothing
    He misses a step and cuts his hand, but
    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
    "We 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, your President Nixon?
    Do you remember, the bills you have to pay
    Or even yesterday?

    Have you been an 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 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?
    Well, ain't that poster love?
    Well, it ain't that Barbie doll
    Her heart's been broken just like you have

    All night
    You want the Young American
    Young American, Young American, you
    want the Young American
    All right
    You want the Young American

    You ain't a pimp and you ain't a hustler
    A pimp's got a Cadi and a 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
    I got a suite and you got defeat
    Ain't there a man you can say no more?
    And, ain't there a woman I can sock on the
    jaw?
    And, 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?

    All night
    I want the Young American
    Young American, Young American, I want
    the Young American
    All right
    I want the Young American.

Fame
------------------------------------------------------------

Drums: Dennis Davis, Andy Newmark
Bass: Emir Ksasan, Willy Weeks
Guitar: Carlos Alomar, Bowie, John Lennon, Earl Slick
Keyboards: Bowie, Michael Garson
Saxophones: David Sanborn
Percussion: Ralph McDonald, Pablo Rosario, Larry Washington
Vocal Backups: Bowie, Ava Cherry, Robin Clark, Jean Fineberg
Antony Hinton, John Lennon, Jean Millington, Warren Peace,
Diane Sumler, Luther Wandross

Produced and mixed by Bowie, Tony Visconti and Harry Maslin at:
Sigma Sound, Engineer Carl Parulow
Electric Lady, Engineer Eddie Kramer
Record Plant, Engineer Harry Maslin

    (Bowie/Alomar/Lennon)

    Fame, makes a man take things over
    Fame, lets him loose, hard to swallow
    Fame, puts you there where things are
    hollow
    Fame

    Fame, it's not your brain, it's just the flame
    That burns your change to keep you insane
    Fame

    Fame, what you like is in the limo
    Fame, what you get is no tomorrow
    Fame, what you need you have to borrow
    Fame

    Fame, "Nien! It's mine!" is just his line
    To bind your time, it drives you to, crime
    Fame

    Could it be the best, could it be?
    Really be, really, babe?
    Could it be, my babe, could it, babe?
    Really, really?

    Is it any wonder I reject you first?
    Fame, fame, fame, fame
    Is it any wonder you are too cool to fool
    Fame

    Fame, bully for you, chilly for me
    Got to get a rain check on pain
    Fame

    Fame
    What's your name?

    Feeling so gay, feeling gay

Station To Station
-----------------------------------------------------

Recorded by Bowie and Harry Maslin
Bowie: Vocals, Guitar, Saxophones
Carlos Alomar: Guitar
Roy Bittan: Piano
Dennis Davis: Drums
George Murray: Bass
Warren Peace: Vocals
Earl Slick: Guitar

Produced by David Bowie and Harry Maslin
Recorded at Cherokee Studios, Hollywood, California

    (Bowie)

    The return of the Thin White Duke
    Throwing darts in lovers' eyes
    Here are we, one magical moment, such is
    the stuff
    From where dreams are woven
    Bending sound, dredging the ocean, lost in
    my circle
    Here am I, flashing no colour
    Tall in this room overlooking the ocean

    Here are we, one magical movement from
    Kether to Malkuth
    There are you, you drive like a demon from
    station to station
    The return of the Thin White Duke, throwing
    darts in lovers' eyes
    The return of the Thin White Duke, throwing
    darts in lovers' eyes
    The return of the Thin White Duke, making
    sure white stays

    Once there were mountains on mountains
    And once there were sunbirds to soar with
    And once I could never be down
    Got to keep searching and searching
    Oh, what will I be believing and who will
    connect me with love?
    Wonder who, wonder who, wonder when
    Have you sought fortune, evasive and shy?
    Drink to the men who protect you and I
    Drink, drink, drain your glass, raise your
    glass high

    It's not the side-effects of the cocaine
    I'm thinking that it must be love
    It's too late - to be grateful
    It's too late - to be late again
    It's too late - to be hateful
    The european cannon is here

    I must be only one in a million
    I won't let the day pass without her
    It's too late - to be grateful
    It's too late - to be late again
    It's too late - to be hateful
    The european cannon is here

    Should I believe that I've been stricken?
    Does my face show some kind of glow?
    It's too late - to be grateful
    It's too late - to be late again
    It's too late - to be hateful
    The european cannon is here, yes it's here
    It's too late

    It's too late, it's too late, it's too late, it's too
    late
    The european cannon is here.

Heroes
----------------------------------

David Bowie: Vocals, Keyboards, Guitar, Saxophone, Koto
Carlos Alomar: Rhythm Guitar
Dennis Davis: Percussion
George Murray: Electric Bass
Brian Eno: Synthesizers, Keyboards, Guitar Treatments
Robert Fripp: Lead Guitar

Background Vocals: David Bowie, Tony Visconti,Antonia Maass
Recorded at Hansa By The Wall, Berlin and Mountain Studios, Montreux
Engineers: Tony Visconti, Colin Thorston, Eugene Chaplin, David Richards
Mixed at Mountain Studios, Montreux

Produced by Bowie and Visconti


    (Bowie/Eno)

    I,
    I will be king
    And you
    You will be queen
    Though nothing will
    Drive them away
    We can beat them
    Just for one day
    We can be Heroes
    Just for one day

    And you
    You can be mean
    And I
    I'll drink all the time
    'Cause we're lovers
    and that is a fact
    Yes we're lovers
    And that is that

    Though nothing
    Will keep us together
    We could steal time
    Just for one day
    We can be Heroes
    for ever and ever
    What d'you say
    I,
    I wish you could swim
    Like the dolphins
    Like dolphins can swim
    Though nothing
    Though nothing will keep us together
    We can beat them
    for ever and ever
    Oh we can be Heroes
    Just for one day
    I,
    I will be king
    And you
    You will be queen
    Though nothing will drive them away
    We can be Heroes
    Just for one day
    We can be us
    Just for one day
    I,
    I remember
    Standing
    By the wall
    The guns
    Shot about our heads
    And we kissed
    As though nothing could fall
    And the shame
    Was on the other side
    Oh we can beat them
    For ever and ever
    Then we could be Heroes
    Just for one day

    We can be Heroes
    We can be Heroes
    We can be Heroes
    Just for one day
    We can be Heroes
    We're nothing
    And nothing will help us
    Maybe we're lying
    Then you better not stay
    But we could be safer
    Just for one day

Scary Monsters (And Super Creeps)
--------------------------------------------------------

    (Bowie)

    She had an horror of rooms she was tired
    you can't hide beat
    And when I looked in her eyes they were
    blue
    but nobody home
    She could've been a killer if she didn't walk
    the way she do
    She opened strange doors that
    we'd never close again

    She began to wail jealousies scream
    Waiting at the light know what I mean

    Scary monsters supercreeps keep me
    running scared
    Scary monsters supercreeps keep me
    running scared

    She asked me to stay and I stole her room
    She asked for my love and
    I gave her a dangerous mind
    Now she's stupid in the street
    and she can't socialise
    Well I love the little girl and
    I'll love her till the day she dies

    Jimmy's guitar sound jealousies scream
    Waiting at the light know what I mean

    Scary monsters supercreeps
    keep me running running scared