Texty: Neil Young. Bad News.

Bad news is come to town
He's walking three feet off the ground
He's ordering another round.
Bound by his own ideas,
Lost, doesn't know where she is found.

Bad news is fighting mad
He went and lost the biggest prize he ever had
But a prizefighter can't be sad
When he smiles under golden lights and lamps
Taking daylight fights again and again.

Bad news is come to town
He's walking three feet off the ground

He's ordering another round.
Bound by his own ideas,
Lost, doesn't know where she is gone.

Bad news is fighting mad
He went and lost the biggest prize he ever had
But a prizefighter can't be sad
When he smiles under golden lights and lamps
Taking daylight fights again and again.

Bad news is come to town.