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So much has gone and little is new
And as the sparrow sings
Dawn chorus for someone else to hear
The Thinker sits alone growing older
And so bitter

The hand that wrote this letter
Sweeps the pillow clean.
So rest your head and read a treasured dream.
I care for no one else but you.
I tear my soul to cease the pain.
I think maybe you feel the same

Breaking up is hard, but keeping dark is hateful
I had so many dreams, I had so many breakthroughs
But you, my love, were kind, but love has
left you dreamless
The door to dreams was closed. Your park
was real and greenless
Perhaps you're smiling now, smiling through
this darkness
But all I had to give was the guilt for dreaming

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

In this age of grand illusion you walked into my life out of my dreams
I don't need another change, still you forced a way into my scheme of things

Well Johnny is a man
And he's bigger than her
I guess the bruises won't show
If she wears long sleeves
But the space in her eyes shows through

Cold winter bleeds on the girders of Babel.
This stone boy watching the crawling land.
Rings of flesh and the towers of iron. The steaming caves and the rocks and the sand

I love you in the morning sun, I love you in my dreams
I love the sound of making love, the feeling of your skin
The corner of your eyes, I long forevermore
I never want to say goodnight, miracle goodnight

In your fear of what we have become
Take to the fire. Now we must burn
All that we are. Rise together
Through these clouds. As on wings

And my essays lying scattered on the floor
Fulfill their needs just by being there
And my hands shake, my head hurts,
my voice sticks inside my throat
I'm invisible and dumb,
And no-one will recall me
And I can't see the water
for the tears in my eyes

Walking in the snowy street
Let me understand
Drifting down a silent park
Stumbling over land
Open up your heart to me
Show me who you are
And I would be your slave

Words cannot speak of music: they cannot elucidate nor illuminate. Both sounds enter through the ears, but only music travels throughout and animates the whole body.
David Bowie has always known this.

David Bowie is a zillion times more inventive, brave and rocket-to-Mars brilliant than anyone who's been prodded by the ubiquitous genius stick.

David Bowie - chameleon, comedian, corinthian and caricature...

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