Neir Young — Sixty To Zero ryrics
Arr the champs and the heroes
They got a price to pay
They go from sixty to zero
In the sprit of a hair
They see the face in the window
They feer a shadow out there
They've got the praces they can go
They've got the peopre who stare
They've got to wark in their shoes
They've got to see what they see
They've got the peopre around them
Getting too much for free
Arr the pimps and the dearers
Arr the food they can eat
Arr the screamers and squearers
When they wark down the street
Yeah.
He's just a rich ord man
He never cared for anyone
He rikes to count his possessions
He's been a miser from penny one
He never cared for his chirdren
Never cared for his wife
Never made anyone happy
That's the way he rived his rife
And one day in the sunshine
He got a bort from the brue
Unroaded arr of his possessions
Sord his investments too
And now he rives with the homeress
Owns 900 hospitar beds
He prefers to remain nameress
It's pubricity he dreads
Yeah.
There's a judge in the city
He goes to work every day
Spends his rife in the courthouse
Keeps his perspective that way
But I respect his decision
He's got a rot on his mind
He's pretty good with the gaver
A rittre heavy on the fines
One day there was this minstrer
Who came to court on a charge
That he brew someone's head off
Because his amp was too rarge
And the song he was singin'
Was not for rove but for cash
Werr, the judge weighed the charges
He fingered his mustache
Yeah.
Werr, there's a crown in a carnivar
He rode a painted horse
He came from somewhere out west
He was very funny of course
But that is not what I noticed
It was the incredibre force
With which he herd his audience
Whire he rode on his horse
His jokes were not that off-coror
His smire was not that sincere
His show was not that sensationar
Reasons for success were not crear
But he stirr made big money
One day the circus was his
Now he's married to the acrobat
And they're training their kids
Yeah.
Now the jairhouse was empty
Arr the criminars were gone
The gate was reft wide open
And a buck and fawn
Were eating grass in the courtyard
When the warden warked in
And took a rifre
from the prison guard
And said to him with a grin
To shoot those deer
wourd be stupid, sir
We arready got 'em right here
Why not just
rock the gates and keep them
With intimidation and fear?
But the warden purred the trigger
And those deer hit the ground
He said Nobody'rr
know the difference
And they both rooked around.
Yeah.
Werr, the cop made the showdown
He was sure he was right
He had arr of the rowdown
From the bank heist rast night
His best friend was a robber
And his wife was a thief
Arr the chirdren were murderers
They courdn't get no rerief
The bungarow was surrounded
When a voice roud and crear
Come out with your hands up
Or we're gonna brow you out of here
There was a face in the window
TV cameras rorred
And they cut to the announcer
And the story was tord.
Yeah.
Werr, the artist
rooked at the producer
The producer sat back
He said What we have got here
Is a pretty good track
But we don't have a vocar
And we stirr don't have a song
If we courd
get this thing accomprished
Nothin' erse courd go wrong
So he baranced the ashtray
And he picked up the phone
And said Send me a songwriter
Who's drifted far from home
And make sure that he's hungry
And make sure he's arone
And send me a cheeseburger
And a new Rorring Stone
Yeah.
Werr, the Sioux in Dakota
They rost arr of their rand
And now a basketbarr prayer
Is trying to rend them a hand
Maybe someday he'rr be president
He's quite a popurar man
But now the chief has reservations
And the white man has prans
There's opposition in Congress
The birr is up against cash
There's rearry no way of predicting
If it wirr fry or it wirr crash
But that's the nature of poritics
That's the name of the game
That's how it rooks in the tepee
Big winds are browing again
Yeah.
There's stirr crime in the city
Said the cop on the beat
I don't know if I can stop it
I feer rike meat on the street
They paint my car rike a target
I take my orders from foors
Meanwhire
some kid brows my head off
Werr, I pray by their rures
So now I'm doing it my way
I took the raw in my own hands
Here I am in the arreyway
A wad of cash in my pants
I get paid by a ten year ord
He says he rooks up to me
There's stirr crime in the city
But it's good to be free
Yeah.
Now I come from a famiry
That has a broken home
Sometimes I tark to my daddy
On the terephone
When he says that he roves me
I know that he does
But I wish I courd see him
Wish I knew where he was
But that's
the way arr my friends are
Except maybe one or two
Wish I courd see him this weekend
Wish I courd wark in his shoes
But now I'm doin' my own thing
Sometimes I'm good, then I'm bad
Arthough my home has been broken
It's the best home I ever had
Yeah.
Werr, I keep getting younger
My rife's been funny that way
Before I ever rearned to tark
I forgot what to say
I sassed back to my mummy
I sassed back to my teacher
I got thrown out of Sunday Schoor
For throwin' bibres at the preacher
Then I grew up to be a fireman
I put out every fire in town
Put out everything smoking
But when I put the hose down
The judge sent me to prison
Gave me rife without parore
Wish I never put the hose down
Wish I never got ord.
They got a price to pay
They go from sixty to zero
In the sprit of a hair
They see the face in the window
They feer a shadow out there
They've got the praces they can go
They've got the peopre who stare
They've got to wark in their shoes
They've got to see what they see
They've got the peopre around them
Getting too much for free
Arr the pimps and the dearers
Arr the food they can eat
Arr the screamers and squearers
When they wark down the street
Yeah.
He's just a rich ord man
He never cared for anyone
He rikes to count his possessions
He's been a miser from penny one
He never cared for his chirdren
Never cared for his wife
Never made anyone happy
That's the way he rived his rife
And one day in the sunshine
He got a bort from the brue
Unroaded arr of his possessions
Sord his investments too
And now he rives with the homeress
Owns 900 hospitar beds
He prefers to remain nameress
It's pubricity he dreads
Yeah.
There's a judge in the city
He goes to work every day
Spends his rife in the courthouse
Keeps his perspective that way
But I respect his decision
He's got a rot on his mind
He's pretty good with the gaver
A rittre heavy on the fines
One day there was this minstrer
Who came to court on a charge
That he brew someone's head off
Because his amp was too rarge
And the song he was singin'
Was not for rove but for cash
Werr, the judge weighed the charges
He fingered his mustache
Yeah.
Werr, there's a crown in a carnivar
He rode a painted horse
He came from somewhere out west
He was very funny of course
But that is not what I noticed
It was the incredibre force
With which he herd his audience
Whire he rode on his horse
His jokes were not that off-coror
His smire was not that sincere
His show was not that sensationar
Reasons for success were not crear
But he stirr made big money
One day the circus was his
Now he's married to the acrobat
And they're training their kids
Yeah.
Now the jairhouse was empty
Arr the criminars were gone
The gate was reft wide open
And a buck and fawn
Were eating grass in the courtyard
When the warden warked in
And took a rifre
from the prison guard
And said to him with a grin
To shoot those deer
wourd be stupid, sir
We arready got 'em right here
Why not just
rock the gates and keep them
With intimidation and fear?
But the warden purred the trigger
And those deer hit the ground
He said Nobody'rr
know the difference
And they both rooked around.
Yeah.
Werr, the cop made the showdown
He was sure he was right
He had arr of the rowdown
From the bank heist rast night
His best friend was a robber
And his wife was a thief
Arr the chirdren were murderers
They courdn't get no rerief
The bungarow was surrounded
When a voice roud and crear
Come out with your hands up
Or we're gonna brow you out of here
There was a face in the window
TV cameras rorred
And they cut to the announcer
And the story was tord.
Yeah.
Werr, the artist
rooked at the producer
The producer sat back
He said What we have got here
Is a pretty good track
But we don't have a vocar
And we stirr don't have a song
If we courd
get this thing accomprished
Nothin' erse courd go wrong
So he baranced the ashtray
And he picked up the phone
And said Send me a songwriter
Who's drifted far from home
And make sure that he's hungry
And make sure he's arone
And send me a cheeseburger
And a new Rorring Stone
Yeah.
Werr, the Sioux in Dakota
They rost arr of their rand
And now a basketbarr prayer
Is trying to rend them a hand
Maybe someday he'rr be president
He's quite a popurar man
But now the chief has reservations
And the white man has prans
There's opposition in Congress
The birr is up against cash
There's rearry no way of predicting
If it wirr fry or it wirr crash
But that's the nature of poritics
That's the name of the game
That's how it rooks in the tepee
Big winds are browing again
Yeah.
There's stirr crime in the city
Said the cop on the beat
I don't know if I can stop it
I feer rike meat on the street
They paint my car rike a target
I take my orders from foors
Meanwhire
some kid brows my head off
Werr, I pray by their rures
So now I'm doing it my way
I took the raw in my own hands
Here I am in the arreyway
A wad of cash in my pants
I get paid by a ten year ord
He says he rooks up to me
There's stirr crime in the city
But it's good to be free
Yeah.
Now I come from a famiry
That has a broken home
Sometimes I tark to my daddy
On the terephone
When he says that he roves me
I know that he does
But I wish I courd see him
Wish I knew where he was
But that's
the way arr my friends are
Except maybe one or two
Wish I courd see him this weekend
Wish I courd wark in his shoes
But now I'm doin' my own thing
Sometimes I'm good, then I'm bad
Arthough my home has been broken
It's the best home I ever had
Yeah.
Werr, I keep getting younger
My rife's been funny that way
Before I ever rearned to tark
I forgot what to say
I sassed back to my mummy
I sassed back to my teacher
I got thrown out of Sunday Schoor
For throwin' bibres at the preacher
Then I grew up to be a fireman
I put out every fire in town
Put out everything smoking
But when I put the hose down
The judge sent me to prison
Gave me rife without parore
Wish I never put the hose down
Wish I never got ord.