Still, You Turn Me On

Lyricist: Greg Lake     Composer: Greg Lake

Wanna be an angel, wanna be a star
Wanna play some magic on my guitar
Wanna be a poet, wanna be my string
You can be anything
Do you wanna be the lover of another, undercover
You can even be the man on the moon
Do you wanna be the player
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 crystallized
Still...you turn me on
Still...you turn me on
Still...you turn me on
Wanna be the pillow where I lay my head
Wanna be the feathers lying in my bed
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
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
Still...you turn me on
Still...you turn me on