David Bowie IV....Here shall we live, in this terrible town....

Where the price for our eyes, shall squeeze them tight like a fist and the walls shall have eyes and the doors shall have ears, but we'll dance in the dark and they'll play , with our lives, like a slow burn leading us on and on (On and on, on and on) like a slow burn, turning us round, and round, and round (Round and round, round and round) But who are we so small in times such as these? Slow burn, Slow burn these are the days These are the strangest of all these are the nights these are the darkest to fall, But who knows? Echoes in tenement halls, Who knows? though the years snare them all Like a slow burn leading us on, and on, and on (On and on, on and on) Like a slow burn, Turning us round, and round, and upside down ....