The record man said: Don't let it go to your head
I'm gonna make you a star!
If you've got it, use it
But don't abuse it
Gave me money from an old fruit jar

To exercise my delight
I went out that night and shook the town the way I knew
So, mama, please, don't worry about me
I'm nearly famous now!

Six months later, I'm a cool operato
And I know my way around
The record man sighed
He really tried, but he couldn't get it off the ground

But that don't bother me now
'Cos I've got a friend
Who's gotta friend
Who really knows how

So, mama, please, don't worry about me
I'm nearly famous now!

Still hanging on
Still hanging on
Hang on

I met this real live walking
Self-styled, self-assured, slow talking bore
I thought I'd play him along
Give him a song, to keep the doom dust away from my door

But I didn't do
What he wanted me to
But it didn't seem to matter somehow

So, mama, please, don't worry about me
I'm nearly famous now!

Still hanging on
Still hanging on
Hang on

Six months later, I'm a part time waiter
But that didn't last long
I stretched and squeezed at words I'd never heard
To write a song

And when it finally came
It sounded the same
As a tune I'd heard before somehow

But, mama, please, don't worry about me
I'm nearly famous now!

Still hanging on
Still hanging on

Ah, don't worry about me, mama!
Here I am on television
Hang on

(Still hanging on)
(Still hanging on)
(Still hanging on)
(Still hanging on)