Iggy Pop
Iggy Pop
Iggy Pop
Iggy Pop
Iggy Pop
Iggy Pop
Iggy Pop
Iggy Pop
Iggy Pop
Iggy Pop
Iggy Pop
Iggy Pop
Iggy Pop
Iggy Pop
Iggy Pop
Iggy Pop
Iggy Pop
(One, two, three, four)
Nervous you need a drink, tired you need a lift
You feel on the brink, maybe you need new tits
Vulnerable as a ship but you re not on the sea
Can you talk to anyone here? No, not really
And the crowd stays on your back
And the girls are all so stacked
And the stress it lines your face
And you really need a place
It's just that social life, it's got you on the run
That goddamn social life, it's torture dressed as fun
It's just that social life, they got you seeing things
That goddamn social life and now you re chasing strings
That goddamn social life
God-awful art and clothe, plenty of money, though
You guess it must be worth something
What that would be you don't know
In your imagination there's a face of love
Someone who will come along instead of coming on
And the forces ebb and flow
And the money goes and goes
And something makes you
Want to throw a brick through the window
It's just that social life, it's got you on the run
That goddamn social life, it's torture dressed as fun
It's just that social life, they got you chasing strings
That goddamn social life and you are seeing things
That goddamn social life
Social Life was written by Iggy Pop.
Social Life was produced by Malcolm Burn.