Adam Ant



There they go the buccaneers

Hand and hand in leather glove

So fast so crazy

With a creepy kind of love

Bright lights, black leather

Bright lights, black leather

Some towns make me anxious

Others sane but sad

But West Berlin's by far the strangest time

I ever had

All night town of punks and art

All saying look at me

Never seen so much black leather

Even on car hoods

Surrounded by East Germany

So

They want to know just who you are

Or how they can amuse you

Squatters freaks Mohicans

Or even a wall of voodoo

If I had to sum it up

Without sounding too clever

I'd have to say my life has been

A case of bright lights

Black leather