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