Hand in hand, in leather glove.
So fast, so crazy,
With a creepy kind of love.
Bright lights, black leather,
Bright lights, black leather,
Black leather
Some towns make me anxious.
Others sane but sad.
But West Berlin's by far, the strangest time
I ever had.
There they go, the buccaneers.
Hand in hand, in leather glove.
So fast, so crazy,
With a creepy kind of love.
Bright lights, black leather
Bright lights, black leather,
Black leather
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....
There they go, the buccaneers.
Hand in hand, in leather glove.
So fast, so crazy,
With a creepy kind of love.
Bright lights, black leather
Bright lights, black leather,
Black leather
They want to know just who you are,
Or how they can amuse you.
Sum it up, sum it up.
Squatters, freaks,
Go alive
Mohicans,
Or even a wall of voodoo.
There they go, the buccaneers.
Hand in hand, in leather glove.
So fast, so crazy,
With a creepy kind of love.
Bright lights, black leather
Bright lights, black leather,
Black leather
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.
Bright lights, black leather
Bright lights, black leather,
Black leather
Repeat til end
Adam Ant