Hang Onto Yourself - David Bowie

Well she’s a tongue twisted star,

She’s coming to the show tonight

Praying to the light machine

She wants my honey not my money

She’s a funky-thigh collector

Laying on electric dreams

So come on, come on We’ve really got a good thing going

Well come on, well 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

But then we move like tigers on vaseline

Well the bitter comes out better on a stolen guitar

You’re messing with the Spiders from Mars

Come on, come on Come on, come on We’ve really got a good thing going

Well come on, well come on If you think we’re gonna make it You better hang on to yourself

Come on, come on Come on, come on We’ve really got a good thing going

Well come on, well come on If you think we’re gonna make it You better hang on to yourself