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Bowie at the Beeb: The Best of the BBC Radio Sessions 68–72
Disc 1
01. In the Heat of the Morning
02. London Bye Ta Ta
03. Karma Man
04. Silly Boy Blue
05. Let Me Sleep Beside You
06. Janine
07. Amsterdam
08. God Knows I’m Good
09. The Width of a Circle
10. Unwashed and Somewhat Slightly Dazed
11. Cygnet Committee
12. Memory of a Free Festival
13. Wild Eyed Boy From Freecloud
14. Bombers
15. Looking for a Friend
16. Almost Grown
17. Kooks
18. It Ain’t Easy
Disc 2
01. The Supermen
02. Eight Line Poem
03. Hang On to Yourself
04. Ziggy Stardust
05. Queen Bitch
06. I’m Waiting for the Man
07. Five Years
08. White Light/White Heat
09. Moonage Daydream
10. Hang On to Yourself
11. Suffragette City
12. Ziggy Stardust
13. Starman
14. Space Oddity
15. Changes
16. Oh! You Pretty Things
17. Andy Warhol
18. Lady Stardust
19. Rock ’n’ Roll Suicide
I'm up on the eleventh floor
And I'm watching the cruisers below
He's down on the street
And he's trying hard to pull sister Flo

Oh, my heart's in the basement
My weekend's at an all time low
'Cause she's hoping to score
So I can't see her letting him go

Walk out of her heart
Walk out of her mind
Oh, not her

She's so swishy in her satin and tat
In her frock coat and bipperty-bopperty hat
Oh God, I could do better than that

She's an old-time ambassador
Of sweet talking, night walking games
And she's known in the darkest clubs
For pushing ahead of the dames

If she says she can do it
Then she can do it, she don't make false claims
But she's a Queen, and such are queens
That your laughter is sucked in their brains

Now she's leading him on
And she'll lay him right down
Yes she's leading him on
And she'll lay him right down

But it could have been me
Yes, it could have been me
Why didn't I say, why didn't I say,
No, no, no

She's so swishy in her satin and tat
In her frock coat and bipperty-bopperty hat
Oh God, I could do better than that

So I lay down a while
And I gaze at my hotel wall
Oh the cot is so cold
It don't feel like no bed at all

Yeah I lay down a while
And I look at my hotel wall
But he's down on the street
So I throw both his bags down the hall

And I'm phoning a cab
'Cause my stomach feels small
There's a taste in my mouth
And it's no taste at all

It could have been me
Oh yeah, it could have been me
Why didn't I say, Why didn't I say,
No, no, no

She's so swishy in her satin and tat
In her frock coat and bipperty-bopperty hat
Oh God, I could do better than that