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)