Hunched in the corner of the dressing-room,
Trying to get back to the real…
Uh-oh, here they come, ready for their meal:
Energy Vampires, crawling out of the wall…
They want to steal my vitality,
They want to drink it all.
This guy sais that he wrote all my songs,
This girl sais she’s had my baby —
Me, I don’t know them from Adam and Eve,
Sometimes I really believe I’m going crazy.
‘Excuse me while I suck your blood,
Excuse me when I phone you…
I’ve got every one of your records, man,
Doesn’t that mean I own you?’
Oh, sure, I long ago decided to make myself an exponent
Of the public possession of the private obsession zone.
But now I’m serious, let’s be serious, I’m not selling you my soul;
Try to put it in the records but I’ve got to keep my life my own.
One thing I’ve not got a lot of is time
And it’s slipping away…
I’ve got a life to live too.