(ian hunter/mick ronson)



Genocidal tendencies are silly to extreme

After all you're still quite small you don't know where you've been

You was only swearing yesterday

Oh you want to win the world away

But now you got nothing to say-ay-ay



Boy you're getting out of hand

You've got to make a stand

So put the coke away

Boy you got the do the show

Got to let the people know

You got the strength to stay



I can see you run

I can see you hide

Oh your heart is aching

Lost in a dream of what might have been

You're the guide

You're the number one

And your knees are shaking

Stand and deliver in an endless dream



Schizophrenicphotogenicaggravates me so

Only yes-men

Have a guess man

Watch the spirit go

Batman zips the monster as he bleeds

And gets up on the buzz he needs

And a kid on the street just reads

And reads and reads and reads

And reads and reads and reads



Boy it's them hard case city blues

Cagney is the news

Does the giant ring a bell

Boy it's the hudson east river cruise

Its the empire state buffoons

Oh you know the story well



Do you have to run

Do you have to hide

There's a new tomorrow

Yes you're a mess

But you're more than less

When this battles won

You can look inside

Oh you did not borrow

Yes you're the best

But you still can't rest

You know you know

The carnival is closed

Your street's alive with ghosts

But a friend says don't look back

Don't look back don't look round

Your vision is your fate

Through long electric nights

When a woman helps you write

Na na na

Na na na

Na

Na na na

Na na na



Cheer up mate put the dramas in the past

See you did not have to fast

Euphemism lasts and lasts and lasts

And lasts and lasts and lasts

And lasts and lasts

Boy if you've got an axe to grind

Be thankful for this time

For it gives you what you need

Boy you've got an eighty-eight to play

It'll tell you what to say

It'll tell you when to breathe

Boy take a turnpike heading west

Turn the people on to beau geste

Cause that's what you did the best

Boy play the pipes till they're old and worn

Sing the words till they fall forlorn

Like the pieces of a jigsaw jet

Boy don't let the earth get in your face

Its a middle-aged displace

Its the middle ages snide

Boy we're a million miles away

And to think it's so insane

Take a chance on a one way ride

Boy shoot a rocket clean out of your mind

Oh these people ain't your kind

No they ain't your kind at all

Boy shoot a rocket clean out of your brain

No these people ain't the same

You can hear another call

Boy the [other book? ] starts with [no? ]

They don't show us how to grow

They only show us how to win

Boy the secret's in the bicycle shed

Ain't no answers now they're dead

To seek is a mortal sin

Hey you know boy let your madness be the clue