Oh, she's a tongue twisting storm Comes to the show tonight Praying to the light machine She wants my honey not my money She's a funky-thigh collector Laying on the 'lectric dream Come on, come on We really got a good thing going Come on, come on If you think we're gonna make it You better hang on to yourself We can't dance, we don't talk much, we just ball and play Then we move like tigers on Vaseline Well, the bitter comes out better on a stolen guitar You're the blessed, we're the Spiders From Mars Come on, come on We really got a good thing going Come on, come on If you think we're gonna make it You better hang on to yourself C'mon Come on, come on Really got a good thing going Come on, come on If you think we're gonna make it You better hang on to yourself Come on, come on We really got a good thing going Come on, come on If you think we're gonna make it You better hang on to yourself
Written by: David Bowie