Tin Machine [Bowie/T. Sales/H. Sales/Gabrels]
Tin machine, tin machine
Take me anywhere
Somewhere without alcohol
Or goons with muddy hair
Tin machine, tin machine
Tin machine, tin machine
The zombies that I pass
The guy that beats his baby up
The preachers and their past
Tin machine, tin machine
Tin machine
Baby doll, baby doll
Clarity and prayer
There's more than money moving here
There's mindless maggot glare
Working horrors, humping Tories
Spittle on their chins
Carving up my children's future
Read 'em, pal, and grin
Raging, raging, raging
Burning in my room
C'mon and get a good idea
C'mon and get it soon
I'm waiting on the fire escape
I'm not exactly well
I'm neither red, nor black, or white
I'm grey and blown to Hell
Tin machine, tin machine
Make some new computer thing that puts me on the moon
Not this psycho time-bomb planet poised to meet its maker
Shake a leg
Tin machine, tin machine
One sick deathless duty to remain endangered species
They reach right out to touch someone
Then wash their crusty hands
Tin machine, tin machine
Baby doll, baby doll
Blue-suede tuneless wonders
Mass confusion, faithless blues
Night that spews out watchmen
Mopping up another fortune
Fractured words and branca-sonic
Anger trapped behind locked doors
And right between the eyes
Raging, raging, raging
Burning in my room
C'mon and get a good idea
C'mon and get it soon
I'm waiting on the fire escape
I'm not exactly well
I'm neither red, nor black, or white
I'm grey and blown to Hell
Tin machine
Tin machine, tin machine
Tin machine, tin machine
Dooba, dooba, dooba, dooba, dooba, dooba, dooba
Dooba, dooba, dooba, dooba, dooba, dooba, dooba
Flower in you, flower in you
Who the fuck is you?
Won't you work the microphone
And your Disney planets too?
Dooba, dooba, dooba, dooba, dooba, dooba, dooba
Dooba, dooba, dooba, dooba, dooba, dooba, dooba
Dooba, dooba, dooba, dooba, do
Tin machine, tin machine
Take me anywhere