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