Jim Steinman Wiki
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Versions[]

Stephen Collins and Sarah Harris in the musical The Dream Engine

Jim Steinman and an unidentified female in a live Warner Records audition session for the musical The Dream Engine

Baxter Harris and Johanna Albrecht in the musical Neverland

Jim Steinman on a 1970s demo recording[1]

Jim Steinman on a 1980s solo piano & vocal demo

Andre DeShields in the cabaret show Bloodshot Wine

Meat Loaf on Braver Than We Are

Rob Fowler and Sharon Sexton on Bat Out Of Hell The Musical: Original Cast Recording

Lyrics[]

Who needs the young?
The revelation of their faces and their hair
When all we have are withered traces of the faces we once were
And suffocation in the dirty, fatal air(alt. lyric: withered air)
Who needs the young bodies floating in the sun
Who needs the young?
The celebration of the races they have won
The sado-masochistic things we've never done
And all the places that we never will have gone
Who needs the young bodies floating in the sun
Who needs the young?

My eyes just aren't what they were (My eyes just aren't what they were)
Is there anyone left who can see? Blind him!

My lips just aren't what they were (My lips just aren't what they were)
Is there anyone left who can kiss? Spit on him!(alt. lyric: Choke him!)

My legs just aren't what they were (My legs just aren't what they were)
Is there anyone left who can dance? Cripple him!

My mind just isn't what it was (My mind just isn't what it was)
Is there anyone left who can dream? Wake him!

My voice just isn't what it was (My voice just isn't what it was)
Is there anyone left who can sing? Silence him!

My sex just isn't what it was (My sex just isn't what it was)
Is there anyone left who can fuck? Screw him!

Who needs the young?
The perfect star of flesh that's free from questions why
Who needs the whispered moaning passed from thigh to thigh
Who need to see them do the things we'll never try
Who needs the young when we're spending all the rest of our miserable lives learning to die!

Alternate final verse:

Who needs the young?
The perfect star of flesh that never has to cry
Who needs the filthy moaning passed from thigh to thigh
Who needs the self-appointed prophets waving banners in the bloodshot sky
Who needs the young when we're spending all the rest of our wonderful lives learning to die!

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