Текст пісні
Rhythm is both the song's manacle and it's demonic charge
It is the original breath, it is the whisper of unremitting demand
"What do you still want of me?" says the singer
"What do you think you can still draw from my lips?"
Exact presence that no fantasy can represent
Purveyor of the oldest secret
Alive with the blood that boils again
And is pulsing where the rhythm is torn apart
How your singer's blood is incensed at the depth of sound
Lacerations echo in the mouth's open, erotic sky
Where dance together the lost frenzies of rhythm
And an imploring immobility
Ladies and gentlemen, Miss Grace Jones
Jones the Rhythm
Slave!
Slave to the rhythm
Dance to the rhythm
Axe to wood
In ancient times
Man machine
Production line
The fire burns
With heartbeats strong
Sing out loud
The chain gang song
Never stop the action
Keep it up, keep it up
Never stop the action
Keep it up, keep it up
Slave to the rhythm
Dance to the rhythm
The rhythm... master... master
Never stop the action
Keep it up
Never stop the action
Keep it up, keep it up
Slave to the rhythm
Work to the rhythm
Dance to the rhythm
Live to the rhythm
Slave to the rhythm
Dance to the rhythm
Live to the rhythm
Slave to the rhythm
Work... to the rhythm
To the rhythm
Slave
Slave
To the rhythm
To the rhythm
To the rhythm
(Grace)
Oh that's weird
(Grace Jones, welcome)
Thank you Paul
And if you're wondering what's wrong with my voice
I just choked on my saliva. So
(Now obviously you're in the Bond movie)