You're gonna look fine You're primed for dancing You're gonna trip and glide All over the trembling planes Your diamond hands Will be stacked with roses And the wind and cars And people of the past
I'll call you thing Just when the moon sings And place your things you stole Upon every star And locked in the arms Of the changeless madman and We'll dance our lives away In the Ballrooms of Mars
You talk about day I'm talkin 'bout night time When monsters call out The names of men Bob Dylan knows And I bet Alan Freed did There are things at night That are better not to behold
You dance With your lizard leather boots on And pull the strings That change the faces of men You diamond browed hag You're a gutter-gaunt gangster John Lennon knows your name And I've seen him I've seen him