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David Bowie - 'Tis a Pity She Was a Whore

'Tis a Pity She Was a Whore
David Bowie
04:52
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Man, she punched me like a dude,
‘Hold your mad hands,' I cried.
‘Tis a pity she was a whore,
‘Tis my curse, I suppose,
That was patrol,
That was patrol,
This is the war.

Black struck the kiss, she kept my cock,
Smote the mistress, drifting on,
‘Tis a pity she was a whore,
She stole my purse with rattling speed,
That was patrol,
This is the war,
‘Tis a pity she was a whore.

Man, she punched me like a dude,
‘Hold your mad hands,' I cried.
‘Tis a pity she was a whore,
‘Tis my fate, I suppose,
For, that was patrol,
That was patrol,
‘Tis a pity she was a whore.

‘Tis a pity she was a whore.

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