She's a tongue twisting storm She will come to the show tonight Praying to the light machine She wants my money, not my honey She's a funky thigh collector Laying on electric dreams So come on, come on We've 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, don't talk to much, just ball and play But then we move around like tigers on vaseline The bitter comes out better on a stolen guitar You're blessed, we're the spiders from Mars So come on, come on We've really got a good thing going Come on, come on If you think we're gonna make it You better hang on to yourself So come on, come on We've really got a good thing going Come on, come on If you think we're gonna make it You better hang on to yourself