| Ziggy played guitar | |
| Jamming good with Weird and Gilly | |
| And the Spiders From Mars | |
| He played it left hand | |
| But made it too far | |
| Became the special man | |
| Then we were Ziggy's band | |
| Ziggy really sang | |
| Screwed up eyes and screwed down hair-do | |
| Like some cat from Japan | |
| He could lick 'em by smiling | |
| He could leave them to hang | |
| Came on so loaded man | |
| Well hung and snow-white tan | |
| So where were the Spiders | |
| While the flies tried to break our balls | |
| Just the beer light to guide us | |
| So we bitch about his fans and should we crush his sweet hands | |
| Ziggy played for time | |
| Jiving us that we were voodoo | |
| But the kids were just crass | |
| He was the nazz, with God-given ass | |
| He took it all too far | |
| But boy, could he play guitar | |
| Making love with his ego | |
| Ziggy sucked up into his mind | |
| Like a leper messiah | |
| When the kids had killed the man | |
| We had to break up the band | |
| Now Ziggy played guitar |
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