sun she burns mean and big i think i'll go to Cafe Noir
|
big screen turns me on i'm gonna be your western star
|
how hard can it be?
|
i get my freon bingo inside your cool soft sarong
|
rolling on the moquette inside a cul-de-sac kampong
|
how hard can it be?
|
how hard can it be when you're a western star?
|
shining and free don't you know that a star burns best?
|
how hard can it be?
|
i said now how hard can it be?
|
she's so sentimental she's got my picture in her head
|
the tool-man is in her dreams
|
i was lifted when she said how hard can it be?
|
and now he's headed skyward standing up on piles of plywood
|
and all he thinks about is how he looks like Heroes-period Bowie
|
and his figure blocks the light
|
and he takes away the night
|
and he's dancing to the new bolero
|
you soy un pistolero i'm not shakin' in my boots
|
i'm ruler of this moon boy so if you move i shoots
|
how hard can it be?
|
|
-----------------
|
Western Star
|
| Frank Black |
