Still...You Turn Me On

Do you want to be an angel,

Do you wanna be an angel

Do you wanna be a star

Do you wanna play some magic

On my guitar

Do you wanna be a poet

Do you wanna be my string

You could be anything

Do you wanna be the lover of another undercover

You could even be the

Man on the moon

Do you wanna be the player

Do you wanna be the string

Let me tell you something

It just don't mean a thing

You see it really doesn't matter

When you're buried in disguise

By the dark glass on your eyes

Though your flesh has crystallised

Still...you turn me on

Do you wanna be the pillow

Where I lay my head

Do you wanna be the feathers

Lying on my bed

Do you wanna be the cover

Of a magazine

Create a scene

Every day a little sadder

A little madder

Someone get me a ladder

Do you wanna be the singer

Do you wanna be the song

Let me tell you something

You just couldn't be more wrong

You see I really have to tell you

That it all gets so intense

From my experience

It just doesn't seem to make sense

Still...you turn me on