| Ziggy played guitar
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| Jamming good with Weird and Gilly
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| And the Spiders from Mars
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| He played it left hand
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| But made it too far
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| Became the special man
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| Then we were Ziggy’s band
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| Ziggy really sang
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| Screwed-up eyes and screwed-down hairdo
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| Like some cat from Japan
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| He could lick 'em by smiling
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| He could leave 'em to hang
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| They came on so loaded, man
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| Well-hung and snow-white tan
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| So where were the spiders
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| While the fly tried to break our bones?
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| With just the beer light to guide us
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| So we bitched about his fans
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| And should we crush his sweet hands?
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| Oh
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| Mm-hmm
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| Ziggy played for time
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| Jiving us that we were voodoo
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| The kids were just crass
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| He was the nazz
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| With God-given ass
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| He took it all too far
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| But, boy, could he play guitar
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| Making love with his ego
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| Ziggy sucked up into his mind, ah
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| Like a leper messiah
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| When the kids had killed the man
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| I had to break up the band
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| Oh, yeah
|
| Ooh
|
| Ziggy played guitar |