David Bowie — My Death Live Santa Monica 72

[Verse 1] My death waits like an old roué So confident I'll go his way Whistle to him and the passing time My death waits like a bible truth At the funeral of my youth We drank for that and the passing time My death waits like a witch at night As surely as our love is bright Let's not think of that or the passing time [Chorus] But whatever lies behind the door There is nothing much to do Angel or devil, I don't care For, in front of that door There is you [Verse 2] My death waits like a beggar blind Who sees the world through an unlit mind Throw him a dime for the passing time My death waits to allow my friends A few good times before it ends Ah let's not think about the passing time My death waits there between your thighs Your cool fingers will close my eyes Let's not think about the passing time [Chorus] But what ever lies behind the door There is nothing much to do Angel or devil, I don't care For in front of that door There is you [Verse 3] My death waits there, among the leaves In magician's mysterious sleeves Rabbits and dogs and the passing time My death waits there among the flowers Where the blackest shadow cowers So let's pick lilacs for the passing time My death waits there, in a double bed Sails of oblivion at my head Let's not think about the passing time [Chorus] But whatever lies behind the door There is nothing much to do Angel or devil, I don't care For, in front of that door There is you [Audience Applause]