Words and music by David Bowie.
He looked a lot like Che Guevara, drove a diesel van Kept his gun in quiet seclusion, such a humble man The only survivor of the National People's Gang Panic in Detroit, I asked for an autograph He wanted to stay home, I wish someone would phone Panic in Detroit He laughed at accidental sirens that broke the evening gloom The police had warned of repercussions They followed none too soon A trickle of strangers were all that were left alive Panic in Detroit, I asked for an autograph He wanted to stay home, I wish someone would phone Panic in Detroit Putting on some clothes I made my way to school And I found my teacher crouching in his overalls I screamed and ran to smash my favourite slot machine And jumped the silent cars that slept at traffic lights Having scored a trillion dollars, made a run back home Found him slumped across the table. A gun and me alone I ran to the window. Looked for a plane or two Panic in Detroit. He'd left me an autograph "Let me collect dust." I wish someone would phone Panic in Detroit