Lyric Hang On To Yourself

Well she s a tongue twisting storm, she will come to the
show tonight
Praying to the light machine
She wants my honey not my money she s a funky-thigh
collector
Layin on lectric dreams

[CHORUS]
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 the blessed, we re the Spiders from Mars

[CHORUS (x3)]

Come on, ah, come on, ah [repeat ad inf.]