Frank Zappa

[Boondock]

i just might be his biggest fan. aside from being a sick rock guitarist, he was also a gifted composer and conductor.
he was also very much on the money with how he saw the country and what state it was headed for.
in 1981 he called out and said that he thinks america is heading towards a fascist theocracy.
look what we have now.

did he 'invent' downloading music in 1983?
lets take a look at his proposal

---------

A PROPOSAL FOR A SYSTEM TO REPLACE
ORDINARY RECORD MERCHANDISING

- copyright 1983 by Frank Zappa -

Ordinary phonograph record merchandising as it exists today is a stupid process which concerns itself essentially with pieces of plastic, wrapped in pieces of cardboard.

These objects, in quantity, are heavy and expensive to ship. The manufacturing process is complicated and crude. Quality control for the stamping of the discs is an exercise in futility. The system is subject to pilferage (as, in some instances, pressing 'over-runs' have been initiated, with the quantity pressed above the amount of the legitimate order removed from the premises and sold on the black market).

Dissatisfied customers routinely return records because they are warped and will not play.

Large numbers of people are employed in the field of 'record promotion' . . . these salaries are, for the most part, a waste of money.

New digital technology may eventually solve the warpage problem and provide the consumer with better quality sound in the form of Compact Discs [C.D.'s]. They are smaller, contain more music, and would, presumably cost less to ship . . . but, they are much more expensive to buy and manufacture. To reproduce them, the consumer needs to purchase a digital device to replace his old hi-fi equipment (in the $700 price range).

The bulk of the promotional effort at every record company today is expended on "NEW MATERIAL" . . . the latest and the greatest of whatever the cocaine-tweezed A&R Brass has decided to inflict on everybody. More often than not, these 'aesthetic decisions' result in mountains of useless vinyl/cardboard artifacts which cannot be sold at any price, and are therefore returned for disposal and recycling. These mistakes are expensive.

Put aside momentarily the current method of operation and think what is being wasted in terms of GREAT CATALOG ITEMS, squeezed out of the market place because of limited rack space in retail outlets, and the insatiable desire of quota-conscious company reps to fill every available niche with THIS WEEK'S NEW RELEASES.

Every major record company has vaults full of (and perpetual rights to) great recording by major artists in many categories which might still provide enjoyment to music consumers if they were made available in the right way. MUSIC CONSUMERS LIKE TO CONSUME MUSIC . . . NOT PIECES OF VINYL WRAPPED IN PIECES OF CARDBOARD.

It is our proposal to take advantage of the POSITIVE ASPECTS of a NEGATIVE TREND afflicting the record industry today: HOME TAPING via cassette of material released on vinyl.

First of all, we must realize that the taping of albums is not motivated by 'stinginess' alone . . . if a consumer makes a home tape from a disc, that copy will probably sound better than a commercially manufactured high-speed dupe cassette, legitimately released by the company.

People today enjoy music more than ever before, and, they like to take it with them wherever they go. THEY CAN HEAR THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN GOOD AUDIO AND BAD AUDIO . . . THEY CARE ABOUT THAT DIFFERENCE, AND THEY ARE WILLING TO GO TO SOME TROUBLE AND EXPENSE TO HAVE HIGH QUALITY 'PORTABLE AUDIO' TO USE AS 'WALLPAPER FOR THEIR LIFESTYLE'.


THE ANSWERS TO PERPLEXING QUESTIONS

presenting: "Q.C.I."


We propose to acquire the rights to digitally duplicate and store THE BEST of every record company's difficult-to-move Quality Catalog Items [Q.C.I.], store them in a central processing location, and have them accessible by phone or cable TV, directly patchable into the user's home taping appliances, with the option of direct digital-to-digital transfer to F-1 (SONY consumer level digital tape encoder), Beta Hi-Fi, or ordinary analog cassette (requiring the installation of a rentable D-A converter in the phone itself . . . the main chip is about $12).

All accounting for royalty payments, billing to the customer, etc. would be automatic, built into the initial software for the system.

The consumer has the option of subscribing to one or more Interest Categories, charged at a monthly rate, without regard for the quantity of music he or she decides to tape.

Providing material in such quantity at a reduced cost could actually diminish the desire to duplicate and store it, since it would be available any time day or night.

Monthly listings could be provided by catalog, reducing the on-line storage requirements of the computer. The entire service would be accessed by phone, even if the local reception is via TV cable.

The advantage of the TV cable is: on those channels where nothing ever seems to happen (there's about 70 of them in L.A.), a visualization of the original cover art, including song lyrics, technical data, etc., could be displayed while the transmission is in progress, giving the project an electronic whiff of the original point-of-purchase merchandising built into the album when it was 'an album', since there are many consumers who like to fondle & fetish the packaging while the music is being played. In this situation, Fondlement & Fetishism Potential [F.F.P.] is supplied, without the cost of shipping tons of cardboard around.

We require a LARGE quantity of money and the services of a team of mega-hackers to write the software for this system. Most of the hardware devices are, even as you read this, available as off-the-shelf items, just waiting to be plugged into each other so they can put an end to "THE RECORD BUSINESS" as we now know it.

[Boondock]

how about his cd 'thing fish'?
it was supposed to be a broadway play but it never came to fruitation.

these days we talk about chem trails and contaminents in the water supply and such right....big time CT stuff.

let me give you the basis of thing fish which came out in 84 i think.
------

it is narrated by the thing fish. thing fish has a head like a potato and a mouth like a duck. what is happening is an evil prince has cooked up a batch of galoot cologna(a play on bruit)...the galoot cologna is to be dispursed to highly rhythmic individuals(black people) and sissy boys(homosexuals).
to make sure the galoot cologna works they introduce it into the mash potatos at a prison cause the government tested syphillis this way. what happens is the inmates turn into the mammy nuns.

it is so far out yet so fresh....it blows me away every time i hear it.


next post i will post some videos

[Boondock]

here he is on crossfire debating against cencorship...he owns them all

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8ISil7IHzxc

here is is in italy with steve vai in 1982. they have a little duel. song is called stevies spanking....frank tears it up. he has prostate cancer here but does not know it

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OW53fiwyskA

talking about the decline of the music biz

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KZazEM8cgt0

here he is on crossfire debating the pmrc when they wantes to put parental warning stickers on records...part one
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mDDIiIOFE_Q

part two
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H28SNdvBstA

my favorite solo of all time right here. this is an improv from sweden in 1974...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rAPVxHNPN6s

[Yo Mama]

I'll check some of these vids out after I get my kids in bed tonight.

You are a gold mine of info about FZ.

[mojo]

I enjoyed some of zappa's stuff, cant say that ive heard it all though. A mate had Joes Garage which he thrashed unmercifully, he also had an album with the song Billy was a Mountain on it, that was pretty cool and another album i remember i think was calling any vegetables or something like that? memory's not so good anymore. but yeah i enjoyed the guy's music and lyrics.

[Boondock]

billy the mountain and call any vegetable

[mojo]

yep thats them, lol, maybe the memory's not so shot after all.

Thats over 20 years ago that i last heard those tracks so i guess they made an impression on me!

[Boondock]

yep thats them, lol, maybe the memory's not so shot after all.

Thats over 20 years ago that i last heard those tracks so i guess they made an impression on me!

call any vegetable is a blues romp that starts with frank saying "this is a song about vegetables, they keep you regular and they're real good for you" bwuahahahahahaha....

then they go into 'call any vegetable....call it by name.....


billy the mountain is a conveniently placed mountain off the short forrest road. he poses for tons of post cards and one day he finally gets a royalty check. he and his wife, a tree named ethel decide to go on vacation. when billy the mountain laughs boulders come out of his mouth.

that is the premise to those two songs...

billy the mountain is a re occuring theme in a lot of his work. he is mentioned several times in the adventures of greggary peccery

[mojo]

Yep great tunes.

ethel was growing off his shoulder and there was some dude called studebaker hawk? who gave him a hard time? i remember the song took up the whole of one side of the record.

[Boondock]

oh yeaha.

billy the mountain was on just another band from la in 1971 and call any vegetable was on absolutely free.

-----call any vegetable----

(This is a song about vegetables . . . they keep you regular; they're real good for ya.)

Call any vegetable
(Call any vegetable)
Call it by name
(Call any vegetable)
Call one today
(Call any vegetable)
When you get off the train
(Call any vegetable)
Call any vegetable
And the chances are good
Ooooh! The vegetable
Will respond to you

(Some people don't go for prunes . . . I dunno . . . I've always found that if they . . . )

Call any vegetable
(Call any vegetable)
Pick up your phone
(Call any vegetable)
Think of a vegetable
(Call any vegetable)
Lonely at home
(Call any vegetable)
Call any vegetable
And the chances are good
That a vegetable will respond to you-hoooo

RUTA-BAY-AY-AYGA RUTA-BAY-AY-AYGA
RUTA-BAY-AY-AYGA RUTA-BAY-AY-AYGA
RUTA-BAYYYYY . . .

(A prune isn't really a vegetable. Cabbage is a vegetable.)

No one will know
If you don't want to let 'em know
No one will know
'Less it's you that might tell 'em so
Call and they'll come to you
Covered with dew
Vegetables dream
Of responding to you
Standing there
Shiny & proud by your side
Holding your hand
While the neighbors decide
Why is a vegetable
Something to hide?
YAR-R-R-R-R-G-H!

------

you have to remember that much of zappas material was not really intended for lyrics. he wrote lyrics to a lot of his stuff cause people liked to hear the human voice attached to music. if you listen to the music behind the lyrics, it is pure insanity...we are talking virtuoso musicians.....

-----billy the mountain----

BILLY the Mountain
BILLY the Mountain
A regular picturesque
Postcardy mountain
Residing between lovely
Rosamond and Gorman
With his stunning wife ETHELL,
A tree!
A tree!

BILLY was a mountain
ETHELL was a tree
Growing off of his shoulder

BILLY was a mountain
ETHELL was a tree
Growing off of his shoulder

Billy had two big
Caves for eyes,
With a cliff for a jaw
That would go up 'n down,
And whenever it did,
He'd puff out some dust,
And hack up a boulder
(HACK!)
Hack up a boulder
(HACK! HACK!)
Hack up a boulder
(HACK! HACK! HACK!)
Hack up a boulder

Now, one day, a man in a checkered suit drove up in a big Lincoln Continental, and he laid a HUGE, BULGING ENVELOPE right at the corner of BILLY THE MOUNTAIN, right where his 'foot' was supposed to be.

Now, BILLY THE MOUNTAIN, he couldn't believe it! All those postcards he'd posed for, for OVER THESE YEARS, and finally, now, AT LAST, his Royalties!

Royalties!
Royalties . . .
Royalties!
Royalties . . .
Royalties!

BILLY THE MOUNTAIN was RICH! His eyeball-caves widened in amazement, his cliff (which was his jaw), it dropped thirty feet!

Ooh, a bunch of dust puffed out! Rocks and boulders hacked up, (hack! hack! hack! hack hack! hack! hack!) crushing 'The LINCOLN'!

Now, the man in the checkered suit, well, without his car he went screaming off into the desert at sunset (AAAA-AAA-AAAAH!) all the way to Rosamond to get a beer and tell everybody there including Ronnie Cook what had happened to his car.

I gave him the money
He acted real funny
He hocked up a rock and
It TOTALLED my car!

Oh, do you
Know any trucks
Might be bound for THE VALLEY?
I don't wanna stand here
All night in this bar
(Dear Lord)

I don't wanna stand here
All night in this bar
(No shit!)

I don't wanna stand here
All night in this bar!

By two o'clock, and the bars had already closed down, BILLY had already broken 'THE BIG NEWS' to ETHELL. With dust and boulders everywhere, BILLY, choked with excitement, announced . . .

"ETHELL, we're going on a VACATION!"

Yes, and they WERE going on a vacation! (Oh, and ETHELL, ETHELL, ETHELL, ETHELL just like a woman, of course she was delighted! She creaked a little bit, and some old birds flew off of her . . . Hey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song . . . ) BILLY told ETHELL they were going to . . . They were going to NEW YORK!

"ETHELL, we're going to . . . New York!"

But first they would stop in LAS VEGAS . . .

It's off to LAS VEGAS
to check out the lounges
Pull a few handles,
Drink a few beers,
(Oh, ETHELL!)

ETHELL, my darling,
you know that I love you!
I'm glad we could have a
Vacation this year!
(Oh, NEET-O!)

Glad we could have a
Vacation this year!

They left that night, crunchin' across the Mojave Desert . . . their voices echoing through the canyons of your minds

"ETHELL, wanna get a cuppa cawfee?"

(Howard Johnson's! Howard Johnson's!
Howard Johnson's! Howard Johnson's!)

"Ahhh! there's a HOWARD JOHNSONS! Wanna eat some CLAMS?"

The first noteworthy piece of real estate they destroyed was EDWARDS AIR FORCE BASE . . .

And TO THIS VERY DAY, 'Wing Nuts' and Data Reduction Clerks alike, speak in reverent whispers about that fateful night when TEST STAND #1 and THE ROCKET SLED ITSELF got LUNCHED! By a FAMOUS MOUNTAIN-IN and his SMALL, WOODEN WIFE.

Good bye to LAS VEGAS
Farewell to the lounges
We pulled a few handles
We drank a few beers
(CHA-KA-LA-KA-LAH!)

Guess that GEORGE PUTNAM
Should be on the air now
With the biggest new story
That has broken this year
(GEORGE PUTNAM!)

His biggest new story
That has broken this year
(Take it away, George!)

"Word just in to the KTTV News Service undeniably links THIS MOUNTAIN and HIS WIFE to drug abuse and pay-offs as part of a San Joaquin Valley SMUT RING! However, we can assure parents in the Southern California area that a recent NARCOTICS CRACK-DOWN, in Torrance, Hawthorne, and Lomita, will provide the SECRET EVIDENCE the Palmdale Grand Jury has needed to seek a CRIMINAL INDICTMENT, and pave the way for STIFFER LEGISLATION, increased FEDERAL AID, and AVERT A CRIPPLING STRIKE of Bartenders and Veterinarians throughout the INLAND EMPIRE. But it is This Reporter's Opinion that ETHELL is a FORMER COMMUNIST . . . "

WITHIN THE WEEK, Jerry Lewis had hosted a Telethon ("Wah wah wah, nice lady!") to raise funds for the injured (injured . . . ) and homeless (homeless . . . ) in Denver, as BILLY had just levelled it, and, a few miles right outside of town, BILLY caused a 'Oh Mein Papa' in the Earth's crust, right over the SECRET UNDERGROUND DUMPS where they keep the POOLS OF OLD POISON GAS, and OBSOLETE GERM BOMBS, just as a FREAK TORNADO cruised through . . .

(My baby, my baby, my baby, my baby)
AH!
(My baby, my baby, my baby, my baby)
POO-AHH!
(My baby, my baby . . .)

. . . sucking up two thirds of it (SUCK! SUCK! SUCK!) for UNTIMELY DISPERSAL over VAST STRETCHES of THE MID WEST!!!

Now, it was about this time, I think it was right outside of Columbus, Ohio that BILLY got his NOTICE TO REPORT for his INDUCTION PHYSICAL. Now, believe me, ETHELL said she wasn't gonna let him go!

"I'm not gonna let you go, BILLY!"

And GEORGE PUTNAM, the RIGHT-WING CREEPO FASCIST PIG NEWSCASTER from Los Angeles said . . . (Take it away GEORGE PUTNAM, the RIGHT-WING FASCIST RADICAL CREEPO PIG NEWSCASTER from Los Angeles!)

"We now have CONFIRMED REPORTS from an INFORMED ORANGE COUNTY MINISTER, that ETHELL is still an ACTIVE COMMUNIST, and it's This Reporter's Opinion that she also practices WITCH-CRAFT!"

It was about this time that the telephone rang in the SECRET BRIEFCASE belonging to THE ONE MORTAL MAN who might be able to stop all of this senseless destruction and save 'AMERICA HERSELF'!

Now, some men say he looked like (he looked like) FELIX PAPPALARDI (Felix Pappalardi); still others say (others say), bullshit, man (bullshit, man) he was just born (he was born) next to the Frozen Beef Pies at GRISTEDE'S (Frozen Beef Pies). Still others say (others say he was just another), uh-huh, and uh-huh again, he was just a crazy Italian (crazy Italian) who drove a RED CAR. You see it was hard to tell (but nobody knows), nobody knew for sure (for sure), he was so (so-o-o-o-o-o) mysterious (mysterious), oh yes, he was . . .

HE WAS SO
(He was so, he was so!)
MYSTERIOUS!

HE WAS SO
MYSTERIOUS!

'Cuz when a person gets to be
Such a HERO, folks,
And MARVELOUS BEYOND COMPUTE,
You can never REALLY TELL
About a GUY LIKE THAT
(Whether he's really a NICE PERSON
Or if he just SMILES A LOT),
(What?)
Or if he has a son named 'PINOCCHIO',
Or what?

Whether he's really a NICE PERSON or if he has a son named 'PINOCCHIO' or what?

Some men say he could FLY
Some men say he could SWIM
Others say he could SING (like NEIL SEDAKA),
And all the girls in FLUSHING
Would be AMAZED of HIM
(Two, Three!)
AMAZED of HIM!

Time passing (right!) . . .
January, February . . .
1975, 1986 . . .
March, 1914 . . .

So when the phone rang (thank you)
In the secret briefcase,
(Thank you)
A strong masculine hand
With a wristwatch
And flexy bracelet
GRABBED IT
And answered
In a deep, calmly assured voice:

"Yes, this is he! What? . . . A mountain . . . with a tree growing off of its shoulder . . . ? You're fulla shit, man . . . what? Wha-, uh, are, are you sure? Oh well, alright, let me write this down then, sorta take a few notes here . . . To NEW YORK? Causing UNTOLD DESTRUCTION?"

(My baby, my baby, my baby, my baby, OH!
My baby, my baby, my baby, my baby,
My baby, my baby,
My baby, my baby, my baby,
My baby, my baby)
UH-OH!
(My baby, my baby, my baby)
AHH!

"Wanted for DRAFT EVASION? Can I, can I fly there immediately and REASON WITH HIM? An expense account? And per diem, too?"

SOME MEN SAY HE COULD DANCE!

Yes, he could DANCE. And here it is, Ladies and Gentlemen: THE STUDEBAKER HOCH DANCING LESSON & COSMIC PRAYER FOR GUIDANCE featuring Aynsley Dunbar . . .

Twirly, twirly, twirly, twirly, twirly, twirly, twirly . . . Hey!

RIGHT HAND FROM THE HEART-UH
(Professional)
LEFT HAND FROM THE HEART-UH
(Exquisite)
RIGHT HAND FROM THE HEART-UH
(Homunculus)
LEFT HAND FROM THE LEFT SHOULDER
TO THE HEART-Uh

Twirly, twirly, twirly, twirly, twirly, twirly, twirly, twirly . . . Hey!

There were a number of very peculiar rumors circulating about STUDEBAKER HOCH recently. Consider if you will the rumors that have spread that he could write THE LORD'S Prayer on the head of a pin!

Some men say he could write THE LORD'S Prayer
On the head of a
Head of a
Head of a pin
Ah!
(Three Dog Night)
(Yeah)

Other still maintain the FACT! (Good God!)
He was born next to the Frozen Beef Pies
(And that was the main influence on HIM!)

Boldly springing into action, he phoned his wife (who ran a modeling school), WHEREUPON SHE . . . HE ran around the back of 'GIMBEL'S' to see if he could find some big un-used cardboard boxes . . .

After which, he hit up GRISTEDE'S for some 'KAISER BROILER FOIL', some 'AUNT JEMIMA SYRUP', and a pair of blunt scissors! Hey-hey!

Yes, and in the parking lot across the street from the One Fifth Avenue Hotel (in between a pair of customized trucks where nobody was looking), he cut out a pair of really, really NICE WINGS, and he covered 'em thoroughly with foil . . . thoroughly with foil thoroughly with foil . . . thoroughly with foil . . . thorougly with foil . . .

TH-thor-thorough-LY with FOIL-L
Th-th--thorough-LY wi-TH wi-TH FOIL-L-L!

Then he took those 'WINGS' and wedged one under each of his powerful arms and sneaked into a telephone booth . . .

He CLOSED THE DOOR! And he pulled down his grey denim Busdriver type pants, and he spread even amounts of AUNT JEMIMA syrup all over the inside of his legs, right underneath his boxer print shorts, ha ha ha!

Soon the booth was filling with flies!

(Help me, help me, help me!)

He held open the legs of his boxer shorts so they could all get in . . . Yes! And when each and every one of those little, each and every one of those little cocksuckin' flies had gone into his boxer shorts, and was lapping up all that good AUNT JEMIMA syrup, he bent over and he put his head between his legs and he said to those little flies in a clear, impressive voice . . .

"NEW YORK!"

. . . and the booth and everything lifted up, out of the parking lot, and into the sky!

STUDEBAKER HOCH
YEAH, YEAH
STUDEBAKER HOCH
STU-DE-BAKER HOCH!

STUDEBAKER HOCH
YEAH, YEAH
STUDEBAKER HOCH
STU-DE-BAKER HOCH!

He's coating his legs
With AUNT JEMIMA syrup up and down!

His shorts'll be filled with flies
That will be buzzing all around!
(Help me, help me, help me!)

Stoodlabaker Hoch:
He's really outa sight!
Stoodlabaker Hoch:
He does it every night!
Stoodlabaker Hoch:
He treats the flies all right
STOODLA-BAKER HOCH
That's why they never bite, hey!

(Please to New York!
Fly to New York!)

He could be a DOG
Or a FROG
Or a LESBIAN QUEEN!

(Fly to New York!)

He could be a NARK
Or a LADY MARINE!

Or he might play dirty!
He's OVER THIRTY!
(Getting old? Say! I don't know!)

His peculiar attire
And the flies he require
Keep leading him on
'Cause ETHELL is gone
And THE MOUNTAIN she's on

(Please to New York!
Fly to New York!)

(Fly to New York!)

(I don't know!)

His peculiar attire
And the flies he require
Keep leading him on
'Cause ETHELL is gone
They keep leading him on
'Cause ETHELL is gone
And THE MOUNTAIN she's on

We join STUDEBAKER HOCH standing on the edge of BILLY THE MOUNTAIN's mouth.

"BILLY? I've come to REASON with you! Our GREAT COUNTRY needs you in the Armed Forces! Why, it's all fair and square, the LOTTERY, you know? Your NUMBER came up . . . you can't go on running like this forever."

ETHELL shook her twigs angrily, but STUDEBAKER HOCH, UN-ferturbed, continued . . .

"Listen, you (cough cough) . . . listen, you COMMUNIST SON-OF-A-BITCH! You better get your ass down there for your fuckin' physical, or I'll see to it that you get used for FILL DIRT in some impending New Jersey MARSH RECLAMATION . . . and your girl-friend here will wind up disguised as a series of brooms, primitive ironing boards (or a DOG HOUSE) . . . get the (cough, cough), GET THE PICTURE?"

BILLY just laughed:

"HO, HO, HO! If they think they're gonna draft ME, they're CRAZY!"

Now you'll remember that STUDEBAKER HOCH was standing on the edge of BILLY's mouth, so that when he laughed, he lost his balance and unfortunately fell, screaming, two hundred feet into the rubble below!

"Aaahhhhhhhh . . . "

(That was only one hundred feet, you Carnaby cutie,
LET'S HEAR ANOTHER SET!)

"Aaahhhhhhhh . . . "

Which only goes to prove . . .

A Mountain is something
You don't wanna fuck with
You don't wanna fuck with
Don't fuck around
(Don't fuck around)

Don't fuck with BILLY
And don't fuck with ETHELL
(You saw what just happened
To the guy with the flies!)

DON'T FUCK AROUND!
DON'T FUCK AROUND!
DON'T FUCK AROUND!
DON'T FUCK AROUND!
DON'T FUCK AROUND!
DON'T FUCK AROUND!
DON'T FUCK AROUND!

With

Biddilly, Biddilly
Biddilly, Biddilly, Biddilly

BIDDILLY
THE
MOUNTIN-INNNNNNN!

BIDDILLY
THE
MOUNTIN-INNNNNNN!
---------

also, these are in sprektime...(talking, not really singing)

[mojo]

lol,

i remember this bit..


RUTA-BAY-AY-AYGA RUTA-BAY-AY-AYGA
RUTA-BAY-AY-AYGA RUTA-BAY-AY-AYGA
RUTA-BAYYYYY . . .


rofl.

[Boondock]

lol,

i remember this bit..


RUTA-BAY-AY-AYGA RUTA-BAY-AY-AYGA
RUTA-BAY-AY-AYGA RUTA-BAY-AY-AYGA
RUTA-BAYYYYY . . .


rofl.

yup..there is some seriously funny stuff in the zappa archive.

in montana and i am the slime there is tina turner and the ikettes singing backup. they also sing on zombie woof. he has tina singing things like 'don't bite me'....'don't eat me'..

zappa was 75% music and 25% lyrics i think. most of his stuff is in sprektime...

he didn't do many vocals himself but at a concert in europe some fan pushed him off the stage cause he thought zappa was giving eyes to his girl and it crushed franks layrnx and his voice sropped a third. he started to do more vocals after that

[Boondock]

and now the lyrics to 'montana'

----

I might be movin' to Montana soon
Just to raise me up a crop of
Dental Floss

Raisin' it up
Waxen it down
In a little white box
That I can sell uptown

By myself I wouldn't
Have no boss,
But I'd be raisin' my lonely
Dental Floss

Raisin' my lonely
Dental Floss

Well I just might grow me some bees
But I'd leave the sweet stuff
To somebody else . . . but then, on the other hand I would

Keep the wax
'N melt it down
Pluck some Floss
'N swish it aroun'

I'd have me a crop
An' it'd be on top (that's why I'm movin' to Montana)

Movin' to Montana soon
Gonna be a Dental Floss tycoon (yes I am)
Movin' to Montana soon
Gonna be a mennil-toss flykune

I'm pluckin' the ol'
Dennil Floss
That's growin' on the prairie
Pluckin' the floss!
I plucked all day an' all nite an' all
Afternoon . . .

I'm ridin' a small tiny hoss
(His name is MIGHTY LITTLE)
He's a good hoss
Even though
He's a bit dinky to strap a big saddle or
Blanket on anyway
He's a bit dinky to strap a big saddle or
Blanket on anyway
Any way

I'm pluckin' the ol'
Dennil Floss
Even if you think it is a little silly, folks
I don't care if you think it's silly, folks
I don't care if you think it's silly, folks

I'm gonna find me a horse
Just about this big,
An' ride him all along the border line

With a
Pair of heavy-duty
Zircon-encrusted tweezers in my hand
Every other wrangler would say
I was mighty grand

By myself I wouldn't
Have no boss,
But I'd be raisin' my lonely
Dental Floss

Raisin' my lonely
Dental Floss
Raisin' my lonely
Dental Floss

Well I might
Ride along the border
With my tweezers gleamin'
In the moon-lighty night

And then I'd
Get a cuppa cawfee
'N give my foot a push . . .
Just me 'n the pygmy pony
Over by the Dennil Floss Bush

'N then I might just
Jump back on
An' ride
Like a cowboy
Into the dawn to Montana

Movin' to Montana soon
(Yippy-Ty-O-Ty-Ay)
Movin' to Montana soon
(Yippy-Ty-O-Ty-Ay)
Movin' to Montana soon
(Yippy-Ty-O-Ty-Ay)
Movin' to Montana soon
(Yippy-Ty-O-Ty-Ay)
Movin' to Montana soon
(Yippy-Ty-O-Ty-Ay)
Movin' to Montana soon
(Yippy-Ty-O-Ty-Ay)
Movin' to Montana soon
(Yippy-Ty-O-Ty-Ay)
Movin' to Montana soon
(Yippy-Ty-O-Ty-Ay)

[Boondock]

'trouble everyday'...from 1965...he wrote this as he watched the watts riots

---

Well I'm about to get sick
From watchin' my TV
Been checkin' out the news
Until my eyeballs fail to see
I mean to say that every day
Is just another rotten mess
And when it's gonna change, my friend
Is anybody's guess

So I'm watchin' and I'm waitin'
Hopin' for the best
Even think I'll go to prayin'
Every time I hear 'em sayin'
That there's no way to delay
That trouble comin' every day
No way to delay
That trouble comin' every day

Wednesday I watched the riot . . .
Seen the cops out on the street
Watched 'em throwin' rocks and stuff
And chokin' in the heat
Listened to reports
About the whisky passin' 'round
Seen the smoke and fire
And the market burnin' down
Watched while everybody
On his street would take a turn
To stomp and smash and bash and crash
And slash and bust and burn

And I'm watchin' and I'm waitin'
Hopin' for the best
Even think I'll go to prayin'
Every time I hear 'em sayin'
That there's no way to delay
That trouble comin' every day
No way to delay
That trouble comin' every day

Well, you can cool it,
You can heat it . . .
'Cause, baby, I don't need it . . .
Take your TV tube and eat it
'N all that phony stuff on sports
'N all the unconfirmed reports
You know I watched that rotten box
Until my head begin to hurt
From checkin' out the way
The newsman say they get the dirt
Before the guys on channel so-and-so

And further they assert
That any show they'll interrupt
To bring you news if it comes up
They say that if the place blows up
They will be the first to tell,
Because the boys they got downtown
Are workin' hard and doin' swell,
And if anybody gets the news
Before it hits the street,
They say that no one blabs it faster
Their coverage can't be beat

And if another woman driver
Gets machine-gunned from her seat
They'll send some joker with a brownie
And you'll see it all complete

So I'm watchin' and I'm waitin'
Hopin' for the best
Even think I'll go to prayin'
Every time I hear 'em sayin'
That there's no way to delay
That trouble comin' every day
No way to delay
That trouble comin' every day

Hey, you know something people?
I'm not black
But there's a whole lots a times
I wish I could say I'm not white

Well, I seen the fires burnin'
And the local people turnin'
On the merchants and the shops
Who used to sell their brooms and mops
And every other household item
Watched the mob just turn and bite 'em
And they say it served 'em right
Because a few of them are white,
And it's the same across the nation
Black and white discrimination
Yellin' "You can't understand me!"
'N all that other jazz they hand me
In the papers and TV and
All that mass stupidity
That seems to grow more every day
Each time you hear some nitwit say
He wants to go and do you in
Because the color of your skin
Just don't appeal to him
(No matter if it's black or white)
Because he's out for blood tonight

You know we got to sit around at home
And watch this thing begin
But I bet there won't be many live
To see it really end
'Cause the fire in the street
Ain't like the fire in the heart
And in the eyes of all these people
Don't you know that this could start
On any street in any town
In any state if any clown
Decides that now's the time to fight
For some ideal he thinks is right
And if a million more agree
There ain't no Great Society
As it applies to you and me
Our country isn't free
And the law refuses to see
If all that you can ever be
Is just a lousy janitor
Unless your uncle owns a store
You know that five in every four
Just won't amount to nothin' more
Gonna watch the rats go across the floor
And make up songs about being poor

[Boondock]

'who needs the peace corps'

What's there to live for?
Who needs the peace corps?
Think I'll just DROP OUT
I'll go to Frisco
Buy a wig & sleep
On Owsley's floor

Walked past the wig store
Danced at the Fillmore
I'm completely stoned
I'm hippy & I'm trippy
I'm a gypsy on my own
I'll stay a week & get the crabs &
Take a bus back home
I'm really just a phony
But forgive me
'Cause I'm stoned

Every town must have a place
Where phony hippies meet
Psychedelic dungeons
Popping up on every street
GO TO SAN FRANCISCO . . .

How I love ya, How I love ya
How I love ya, How I love ya Frisco!
How I love ya, How I love ya
How I love ya, How I love ya
Oh, my hair is getting good in the back!

Every town must have a place
Where phony hippies meet
Psychedelic dungeons
Popping up on every street
GO TO SAN FRANCISCO . . .

Hotcha!

First I'll buy some beads
And then perhaps a leather band
To go around my head
Some feathers and bells
And a book of Indian lore
I will ask the Chamber Of Commerce
How to get to Haight Street
And smoke an awful lot of dope
I will wander around barefoot
I will have a psychedelic gleam in my eye at all times
I will love everyone
I will love the police as they kick the shit out of me on the street
I will sleep . . .
I will, I will go to a house
That's, that's what I will do
I will go to a house
Where there's a rock & roll band
'Cause the groups all live together
And I will join a rock & roll band
I will be their road manager
And I will stay there with them
And I will get the crabs
But I won't care

-----

'flower punk'



Hey Punk, where you goin' with that flower in your hand?
Hey Punk, where you goin' with that flower in your hand?

Well, I'm goin' up to Frisco to join a psychedelic band.
I'm goin' up to Frisco to join a psychedelic band.

Hey Punk, where you goin' with that button on your shirt?
Hey Punk, where you goin' with that button on your shirt?

I'm goin' to the love-in to sit & play my bongos in the dirt.
Yes, I'm goin' to the love-in to sit & play my bongos in the dirt.

Hey Punk, where you goin' with that hair on your head?
Hey Punk, where you goin' with that hair on your head?

I'm goin' to the dance to get some action, then I'm goin' home to bed.
I'm goin' to the dance to get some action, then I'm goin' home to bed.

Hey Punk, where you goin' with those beads around your neck?
Hey Punk, where you goin' with those beads around your neck?

I'm goin' to the shrink so he can help me be a nervous wreck . . .

Hey Punk!
Punky!
Hey Punk!
Punk!
Hey Punk!
(Hey Punk!)
Hey Punk!
Hey Punk!
Punky!
(Hey Punk!)
Hey-hey!
(Hey Punk!)
Go man, go . . . go man, go . . .
Just a little bit softer
Golly, do I ever have a lot of soul!
Punk, I think I love you!
Come on, Roy
Questi dominga?

Let me see that nose, it didn't . . .
Orale!
I wanna know for sure!
Leave my nose alone please!
What are you trying to do?
He's gonna stand over there
Bigashi' nunga!
But this is Cheetah
Buirote
Chita!

FZ on the left:
It's one of the most exciting things that's ever happened to me. You know, every time I think about how lucky I am to be in the rock & roll industry, it's SO exciting. You know, when I first got into the rock & roll business I could barely even play the changes to this song on my, on my guitar. But now I'm very proficient at it, I can play the guitar, I can strum it rhythmically, I can sing along with my guitar as I strum. I can strum, sing, dance, I can make merry fun all over the stage. And you know, it's so wonderful to . . . It's wonderful to feel that I'm doing something for the kids, because I know that the kids and their music are where it's at. The youth of America today is so wonderful . . . And I'm proud to be a part of this gigantic mass deception. I hope she sees me twirling, yes . . . I hope she sees me dancing and twirling, I will say: "Hello, dolly!" Is the song over?

FZ on the right:
Boy, this is really exciting, making a rock & roll record. I can't even wait until our record comes out and the teen-agers start to buy it. We'll all be rich and famous! When my royalty check comes I think I'm going to buy a Mustang. No, I think I'll . . . I think I'll get a Corvette. No, I think I'll get a Harley Davidson. No, I don't think I'll buy any of those cars. I think what I will do is I will buy a boat. No, that wouldn't be good either. I think, ah, I'll go into real estate. I think I would like to . . . I think I would like to buy La Cienega Boulevard. No, that wouldn't do any good. Gee, I wonder if they can see me up here, twirling my tambourine and dancing . . .
Maybe after the show one of the girls who sees me up here, singing and twirling my tambourine and dancing, will like me. And she will come over to me and I will walk . . . I will walk up to her and I will smile at her and I will impress her and I will say: "Hello, baby, what's a girl like you doing in a place like this? I'm from a rock & roll band, I think we should . . . "
Is the song over?

Center mumbling:
Ay, ay!
Mingia!
There she is!
Ay!
Buirote.
When do we get paid for this?
Ay, ay!
. . . papa . . . huevos
Huevos?
Rock, bop, rock & roll
Rock, bop . . .
One more time!
Un . . .
Stop sloppy rock & roll
Bop bop bop!
YEAH! WHEEE!

[Tetsujin]

I've never actualy heard Zappa, but I have seen his son play! I enjoyed his performace at 10k lakes fest!

[Boondock]

dweezil owns..he is a fucking beast on the guitar.
i saw him twice at the zappa plays zappa. when i saw it in detroit, he did a duel with frank via a big screen. frank would play a run from chungas revence and then dweezil would do a run....it was sweet how they set it up.

he can rock the shit but nobody is as good as frank was

[Boondock]

'lets make the water turn black'

Now believe me when I tell you that my song is really true
I want everyone to listen and believe
It's about some little people from a long time ago
And all the things the neighbors didn't know
Early in the morning Daddy Dinky went to work
Selling lamps & chairs to San Ber'dino squares
And I still remember Mama with her apron & her pad
Feeding all the boys at Ed's Cafe!

Whizzing & pasting & pooting through the day . . .
(Ronnie helping Kenny helping burn his poots away!)
And all the while on a shelf in the shed:
KENNY'S LITTLE CREATURES ON DISPLAY!

Ronnie saves his numies on a window in his room
(A marvel to be seen: dysentery green)
While Kenny & his buddies had a game out in the back:
LET'S MAKE THE WATER TURN BLACK

We see them after school in a world of their own
(To some it might seem creepy what they do . . . )
The neighbors on the right sat & watched them every night
(I bet you'd do the same if they was you)

Whizzing & pasting & pooting through the day . . .
(Ronnie helping Kenny helping burn his poots away!)
And all the while on a shelf in the shed:
KENNY'S LITTLE CREATURES ON DISPLAY!

Ronnie's in the Army now & Kenny's taking pills
Oh! How they yearn to see a bomber burn!
Color flashing, thunder crashing, dynamite machine!
(Wait till the fire turns green . . . wait till the fire turns green)
WAIT TILL THE FIRE TURNS GREEN!

Dick Kunc: This would be a little bit of vocal teen-age heaven, right here on Earth!

----

'camarillo brillo'



She had that
Camarillo brillo
Flamin' out along her head,
I mean her Mendocino bean-o
By where some bugs had made it red

She ruled the Toads of the Short Forest
And every newt in Idaho
And every cricket who had chorused
By the bush in Buffalo

She said she was
A Magic Mama
And she could throw a mean Tarot
And carried on without a comma
That she was someone I should know

She had a snake for a pet
And an amulet
And she was breeding a dwarf
But she wasn't done yet
She had gray-green skin
A doll with a pin
I told her she was awright
But I couldn't come in
(I couldn't come in right then . . . )

And so she wandered
Through the door-way
Just like a shadow from the tomb
She said her stereo was four-way
An' I'd just love it in her room

Well, I was born
To have adventure
So I just followed up the steps
Right past her fuming incense stencher
To where she hung her castanets

She stripped away
Her rancid poncho
An' laid out naked by the door
We did it till we were un-concho
An' it was useless any more

She had a snake for a pet
And an amulet
And she was breeding a dwarf
But she wasn't done yet
She had gray-green skin
A doll with a pin
I told her she was awright
But I couldn't come in
(actually, I was very busy then)

And so she wandered
Through the door-way
Just like a shadow from the tomb
She said her stereo was four-way
An' I'd just love it in her room

Well, I was born
To have adventure
So I just followed up the steps
Right past her fuming incense stencher
To where she hung her castanets

She said she was
A Magic Mama
And she could throw a mean Tarot
And carried on without a comma
That she was someone I should know

(Is that a real poncho . . . I mean
Is that a Mexican poncho or is that a Sears poncho?
Hmmm . . . no foolin' . . . )

[Boondock]

'beauty knows no pain'

Beauty knows no pain
So what you cryin' about
Girl
Beauty knows no pain
So what you cryin' about
Girl
Beauty knows no
Beauty knows no
Beauty knows no

Even if yer plain
You could be tryin' it out
Girl
Even if yer plain
You could be tryin' it out
Girl
Beauty is no
Beauty is no
Beauty is no
Beauty is a bikini wax 'n waitin' for yer nails to dry
Beauty is a colored pencil, scribbled all around yer eye
Beauty is a pair of shoes that makes you wanna die

Beauty is a
Beauty is a
Beauty is a
Lie

But you don't care if it's a lie
'Cause you are such a beautiful guy
(Hi, girls!)
Your head is north, your feet is south
And you save the rest for Charlie's mouth

Your head is north
Your feet is south
And you save the rest for
CHARLIE'S ENORMOUS MOUTH
ENORMOUS MOUTH
CHARLIE . . .

" . . . and it doesn't have that stale aftertaste!

----

'catholic girls'

(Well)
Catholic Girls
With a tiny little mustache
Catholic Girls
Do you know how they go?
Catholic Girls
In the Rectory Basement
Father Riley's a fairy
But it don't bother Mary

Catholic Girls
At the CYO
Catholic Girls
Do you know how they go?
Catholic Girls
There can be no replacement
How do they go, after the show?

Joe:

All the way
That's the way they go
Every day
And none of their mamas ever seem to know
Hip-Hip-Hooray
For all the class they show
There's nothing like a Catholic Girl
At the CYO
When they learn to blow . . .

Father Riley:

They're learning to blow
All the Catholic Boys!

Mary:

Warren Cuccurullo . . .

Father Riley:

Catholic Boys!

Mary:

Kinda young, kinda WOW!

Father Riley:

Catholic Boys!

Mary:

Vinnie Colaiuta . . .

Chorus:

Where are they now?
Did they all take The Vow?

Father Riley:

Catholic Girls!

Warren:

Carmenita Scarfone!

Father Riley:

Catholic Girls!

Officer Butzis:

Hey! She gave me VD!

Father Riley:

Catholic Girls!

Warren:

Toni Carbone!

Chorus:

With a tongue like a cow
She could make you go WOW!

Joe:

VD Vowdy vootie
Right away
That's the way they go
Every day
Whenever their mamas take them to a show
Matinee
Pass the popcorn please
There's nothing like a Catholic Girl
With her hand in the box
When she's on her knees

Larry:

She was on her knees
My little Catholic Girl

Chorus:

In a little white dress
Catholic Girls
They never confess
Catholic Girls
I got one for a cousin
I love how they go
So send me a dozen
Catholic Girls
OOOOOOH!
(Well well well)
Catholic Girls
(Ma-ma-mum ma-ma-mum)
Yai-ee-ahhh!
Catholic Girls
OOOOOOH!
(Well well now)
Catholic Girls
(Ma-ma-mum ma-ma-ma-ma-mum)
Yai-ee-ahhh!
Catholic Girls
(Ma-ma ma-ma-maaah)
OOOOOOH!
Catholic Girls
Yai-ee-ahhh!
(Well well)
Catholic Girls
(Ma-ma ma-ma-ma-mum)
OOOOOOH!
(Ma-ma ma-ma ma-mum)
Catholic Girls
Yai-ee-ahhh!
(Ma-ma ma-ma-ma-mum)
Catholic Girls
OOOOOOH!
Catholic Girls
Yai-ee-ahhh!

Central Scrutinizer:

This is the CENTRAL SCRUTINIZER . . .
Joe had a girl friend named Mary.
She used to go to the church club every week.
They'd meet each other there
Hold hands
And think Pure Thoughts

[Boondock]

'jewish princess'



I want a nasty little Jewish Princess
(La-la-la)
With long phony nails and a hairdo that rinses
(Wee-oo-oo)
A horny little Jewish Princess
With a garlic aroma that could level Tacoma
(FA!)
Lonely inside
Well, she can swallow my pride

I need a hairy little Jewish Princess
(La-la-la)
With a brand new nose
(Oo-ee-oo)
Who knows where it goes
I want a steamy little Jewish Princess
(KSSS!)
With over-worked gums, who squeaks when she cums
I don't want no troll
I just want a Yemenite hole

I want a darling little Jewish Princess
(La-la-la)
Who don't know shit about cooking and is arrogant looking
(Woo-eee-ooo)
A vicious little Jewish Princess
To specifically happen with a pee-pee that's snappin'
All up inside
I just want a Princess to ride

Awright, back to the top . . .
(Hi-Yo, Silver! Away!)
Everybody twist!

I want a funky little Jewish Princess
(La-la-la)
A grinder; a bumper, with a pre-moistened dumper
A brazen little Jewish Princess
(HI-YO!)
With titanic tits
(WHOAH!)
And sand-blasted zits
She can even be poor
So long as she does it with four on the floor
(Vapor-lock)

I want a dainty little Jewish Princess
(La-la-la)
With a couple of sisters who can raise a few blisters
A fragile little Jewish Princess
(HI-YO!)
With Roumanian thighs, who weasels 'n lies
For two or three nights
Won't someone send me a princess who bites
Won't someone send me a princess who bites
Won't someone send me a princess who bites
Won't someone send me a princess who bites

-----

'crew slut'



Central Scrutinizer:

But one night, at the Social Club meeting
Mary didn't show up . . .
She was sucking cock backstage at The Armory
In order to get a pass
To see some big rock group for free . . .

Larry:

Hey Hey Hey all you girls in these
Industrial towns
I know you're prob'ly gettin' tired
Of all the local clowns
They never give you no respect
They never treat you nice
So perhaps you oughta try
A little friendly advice
And be a CREW SLUT

Hey, you'll love it
Be a CREW SLUT
It's a way of life
Be a CREW SLUT
See the world
Don't make a fuss, just get on the bus
CREW SLUT
Add water, makes its own sauce
Be a CREW SLUT
So you don't forget, call before midnite tonite
The boys in the crew
Are just waiting for you

You never get to move around
You never go nowhere
I know yer prob'ly gettin' tired
Of all the guys out there
You always wondered what it's like
To go from place to place
So, darlin', take a little ride
On the mixer's face
Be a CREW SLUT
Just follow the magic footprints
Be a CREW SLUT
Hey, you'll love it!
Be a CREW SLUT
It's a way of life
I ain't gonna squash it
And you don't need to wash it!
CREW SLUT
Hey, I'll buy you a pizza
CREW SLUT
Of course I'll introduce you to Warren
The boys in the crew
Are only waiting for you

Larry:

Well you been to Alabama, girl,
'N Georgia too
'N all the boys in the crew
Is bein' good to you
I know you're sayin' to yourself
"This is the way to go"
'Cause when you need a little extra
They will give you some mo'
'Cause you're the CREW SLUT

Mary:

I'm into leather . . .

Larry:

That's good!

Road Crew Chorus:

CREW SLUT

Larry:

A lot of the boys in the crew
Love leather . . .

Mary:

And rubber . . .

Road Crew Chorus:

CREW SLUT

Larry:

Yeh, they like rubber too . . . shrink-tubing
With a hair dryer . . .

Road Crew Chorus:

Trade your spot on the bench
For a guy with a wrench
And be a CREW SLUT

Mary:

Ha ha ha . . .

Larry:

You like that, huh?

Road Crew Chorus:

CREW SLUT

Larry:

I told you you'd love it . . .
It's a way of life!

Road Crew Chorus:

The guys in the crew
Have got a present for you!

Mary:

A present for me?

Larry:

We got a present for you!

Mary:

Whaddya got?
Whaddya gonna give me?

Larry:

It looks just like a Telefunken U-47
You'll love it . . .

Mary:

With leather?

Central Scrutinizer:

Eh errr, eh eh . . . This is the CENTRAL SCRUTINIZER again . . .
And so MARY was enticed away from JOE
By an evil barbarian with a wrench in his pocket
Lured into a life of SLEAZERY
With the entire road crew of some
Famous Rock Group
(I don't know whether it was really Toad-O . . . I don't know . . . I'll check it out)

Again we see
MUSIC
Causing
BIG TROUBLE!

[Boondock]

'cocaine decisions'



Chop a line now . . .
Cocaine decisions . . .
You are a person with a snow job
You got a fancy gotta-go job
Where the cocaine decision that you make today
Will mean that millions somewhere else
Will do it your way

Cocaine decisions . . .
You are a person who is high class
You are a person not in my class
And the cocaine decision that you make today
Will mean nothing later on
When you get nose decay

I don't wanna know
'Bout the things that you pull
Outta your nose
Or where they goes
But if you are wasted
From the stuff you're stickin' in it
I get madder every day
'Cause what you do 'n what you say
Affects my life in such a way
I learn to hate it every minute!

I don't wanna know
'Bout the things that you pull
Outta your nose
Or where they goes
But if you are wasted
From the stuff you're stickin' in it
I get madder every day
'Cause what you do 'n what you say
Affects my life in such a way
I learn to hate it every minute!

Cocaine decisions . . .
You are a doctor or a lawyer
You got an office with a foyer
And the cocaine decision that you make today
Will not be discovered till it's over 'n done
By the customers you hold at bay

Cocaine decisions . . .
You are a movie business guy
You got accountants who supply
The necessary figures
To determine when you fly
To Acapulco
Where all your friends go

Cocaine decisions . . .
We must watch the stuff you make
You have let us eat the cake
While your accountants tell you Yes Yes Yes
You make EXPENSIVE UGLINESS
(How do you do it? -- Let me guess . . . )
Cocaine decisions . . .
Cocaine decisions . . .
Cocaine decisions . . .
Cocaine decisions . . .
Cocaine decisions . . .
Cocaine decisions . . .
Cocaine decisions . . .
Cocaine decisions . . .

----

'sex'

What's the thing that they's talkin' about everywhere?
SEX
When they wanna be suave 'n debonair
SEX

What's poppin' up the most from coast to coast
SEX
At yer bongo party an' yer weenie roast
SEX

Even them Christians who is born again
SEX
Go out 'n get pooched every now 'n' then
SEX

Do ya do or don't ya don't
SEX
Bet yer lyin' if ya say ya won't

Some girls try it 'n go on a diet
Then they worry 'cause they's too fat
Who wants t'ride on an ironin' board?
That ain't no fun . . . I tried me one

Grow that meat all over yer bones
Work the wall with the local jones
'N while you do it, remember this line
The Sniffer says it all the time

"THE BIGGER THE CUSHION, THE BETTER THE PUSHIN'
THE BIGGER THE CUSHION, THE BETTER THE PUSHIN'
THE BIGGER THE CUSHION, THE BETTER THE PUSHIN'
THE BIGGER THE CUSHION . . . "

Makes no difference if yer young or old
SEX
Don't you act like it's made of gold
SEX

Ladies they need it just like the guys
SEX
Maybe you could use a protein surprise
SEX

Layin' down or standin' up
SEX
You get reals good, just keep it up
SEX

Any time, anywhere
SEX
Why d'ya think it's growin' there?
SEX

Some girls try it 'n they don't like it
They complain 'cause it don't last
Who wants to ride on a debutante?
They talks too much . . . they moves too fast

Watch the scenery while you ride
You can be very warm inside
'N when the train goes 'round the bend
Check the shrub'ry on the other end

"THE BIGGER THE CUSHION, THE BETTER THE PUSHIN'
THE BIGGER THE CUSHION, THE BETTER THE PUSHIN'
THE BIGGER THE CUSHION, THE BETTER THE PUSHIN'
THE BIGGER THE CUSHION . . . "

"THE BIGGER THE CUSHION, THE BETTER THE PUSHIN'
THE BIGGER THE CUSHION, THE BETTER THE PUSHIN'
THE BIGGER THE CUSHION, THE BETTER THE PUSHIN'
THE BIGGER THE CUSHION .

----

'the blue light'



Your ethos
Your pathos
Your Porthos
Your Aramis
Your Brut Cologne
You're writing home
You are hopeless
Your hopelessness
Is rising around you, rising around you
You like it
It gives you something to do
In the day time

Hey buddy, you need a hobby
You are tired of moving forward
You think of the future
And secretly you piddle your pants
The puddle of piddle
Which used to be little
Is rising around you, rising around you
You like it
It gives you something to do
In the night time

Oh well, you travel to bars
You also go to Winchell's Doughnuts
And hang out with the Highway Patrol
Sometimes you'll go to a pizza place
You go to Shakey's to get that
American kind of pizza
That has the ugly, waxey, fake yellow kind
Of cheese on the top . . .
Then you go to Straw Hat Pizza,
To get all those artificial ingredients
That never belonged on a pizza in the first place
(But the white people really like it . . . )
Oh well, you'll go anyplace, you'll do anything
Oh you'll give me your underpants
I hope these aren't yours, buddy . . .
They're very nice, though
You'll go to Santa Monica Boulevard,
You'll go to the Blue Parrot
No problem, you'll go anyplace
You'll do anything
Just so you can hang out with the others
The others just like you
Afraid of the future
(Death Valley Days straight ahead)
The future is scary
(Yes it sure is)

Well, the puddle is rising
It smells like the ocean
A body of water to isolate England
And also Reseda
The oil in patches
All over Atlantis, Atlantis
You remember Atlantis
Donovan, the guy with the brocade coat
Used to sing to you about Atlantis
You loved it, you were so involved then
That's back in the days when you used to
Smoke a banana
You would scrape the stuff off the middle
You would bake it
You would smoke it
You even thought you was getting ripped from it
No problem
Ah Atlantis, they could really get down there
The plankton, the krill
The giant underwater pyramid
(Hear me out)
The squid decor
Excuse me, Todd
The big ol' giant underwater door
The dome, the bubbles, the blue light

Light, light, light, light, blue
Light, light, light, light, blue
Blue light blue light
The seepage, the sewage, the rubbers, the napkins
Your ethos, your Porthos,
Your flag pole, your port hole
Your language
You're frightened
The future, your lang . . .
You can't even speak your own fucking language
You can't read it anymore
You can't write it anymore
Your language
The future of your language
Your meat loaf
Don't let your meat loaf
Heh, heh, heh
Your Micro-Nanette
Your Brut
Cologne

[Boondock]

'flakes'



Flakes! Flakes!
Flakes! Flakes!
They don't do no good
They never be workin'
When they oughta should
They waste your time
They're wastin' mine
California's got the most of them
Boy, they got a host of them

Swear t'God they got the most
At every business on the coast
Swear t'God they got the most
At every business on the coast
They got the Flakes

Flakes! Flakes!

They can't fix yer brakes
You ask 'em, "Where's my motor?"
"Well, it was eaten by snakes . . . "
You can stab 'n shoot 'n spit
But they won't be fixin' it
They're lyin' an' lazy
They can be drivin' you crazy

Swear t'God they got the most
At every business on the coast
Swear t'God they got the most
At every business on the coast
(Take it away, Bob . . . )

I asked as nice as I could
If my job would
Somehow be finished by Friday
Well, the whole damn weekend
Came 'n went, Frankie
(Wanna buy some mandies, Bob?)
You know what? They didn't do nothin'
But they charged me double for Sunday

Now, you know, no matter what you do,
They gonna cheat 'n rob you
'N then they'll give you a bill
'N it'll get your senses reelin'
And if you do not pay
They got computer collectors
That'll get you so crazy
'Til your head'll go through th' ceilin'
Yes it will!

I'm a moron 'n this is my wife
She's frosting a cake
With a paper knife
All what we got here's
American made
It's a little bit cheesey,
But it's nicely displayed
Well we don't get excited when it
Crumbles 'n breaks
We just get on the phone
And call up some Flakes
They rush on over
'N wreck it some more
'N we are so dumb
They're linin' up at our door
Well, my toilet went crazy
Yesterday afternoon
The plumber he says
"Never flush a tampoon!"
This great information
Cost me half a week's pay
And the toilet blew up
Later on the next day ay-eee-ay
Yeah ay-eee-ay
Yeah ay-eee-ay
Yeah ay-eee-ay
Blew up the next day
WOO-OOO

One Two Three Four!

Flakes! Flakes!
Flakes! Flakes!
Flakes! Flakes!

One Two Three Four!
FLAKES!

We are millions 'n millions
We're coming to get you
We're protected by unions
So don't let it upset you
Can't escape the conclusion
It's probably God's Will
That civilization
Will grind to a standstill
And we are the people
Who will make it all happen
While yer children is sleepin',
Yer puppy is crappin'
You might call us Flakes
Or something else you might coin us
We know you're so greedy
That you'll probably join us

We're coming to get you, we're coming to get you
We're coming to get you, we're coming to get you
We're coming to get you, we're coming to get you
We're coming to get you, we're coming to get you

---------

'broken hearts are for assholes'



Hey, now, hey!
Hey! Do you know what you are?
You're an asshole! ASSHOLE!

Some of you might not agree
'Cause you probably likes a lot of misery
But think a while and you will see . . .
Broken hearts are for assholes
Broken hearts are for assholes
Are you an asshole?
Broken hearts are for assholes
Are you an asshole too?
Whatcha gonna do, 'cause you're an asshole . . .

No no no, yeah yeah yeah
I said
You . . . are . . . an ASSHOLE!

Maybe you think you're a lonely guy
'N maybe you think you're too tough to cry
So you went to The Grape,
Just to give it a try
And Dagmar
Without a doubt, the ugliest sonofabitch I've ever seen in my life
Was his name . . .
One Two Three Four!
The whiskers sticking out from underneath of his Pancake make-up
And yet he was a beautiful lady
Nearly drove you insane
Let's talk about Leather: LEATHERRRRRR
And so you kissed a little sailor
Tex Abel, starring in the latest Shepperton Production:
Who had just blew in from Spain
"Sir Richard Pump-A-Loaf"
You sniffed the reeking buns of Angel
The tale of a demented bread-boffer
And acted like it was cocaine
Cucumber pud annexed to a fine whole-wheat loaf
You were dazzled by the exciting new costume of Ko-Ko
Then on Tuesday night, Ceasar's back in town
In a way you can't explain
Facing off in a no-holds-barred tag team grudge match
With Kona . . .
And so you worked the wall with Michael
Three-hundred and seventy-nine pounds of Samoan dynamite
Which gave your back an awful strain
Volcanic Hell
But you came back on Sunday for the gong shows
Next Thursday, teen town's finest
But you forgot what I was sayin'
'Cause you're an asshole, You're an asshole
That's right
You're an asshole, you're an asshole
Yes, yes
You're an asshole, you're an asshole
That's right
You're an asshole, you're an asshole

Well, now you been to The Grape, been to The Chest
Now I think you know what you are: you're an asshole

You say you can't live with what you've been through
Well, ladies you can be an asshole too
You might pretend you ain't got one on the bottom of you
But don't fool yerself girl
It's lookin' at you
Don't fool yerself girl
It's winkin' at you
Don't fool yerself girl
It's blinkin' at you
That's why I say
I'm gonna ram it, ram it, ram it
Ram it up yer poop chute
Corn hole
Ram it, ram it, ram it
Ram it up yer poop chute
Fist fuck
Ram it, ram it, ram it
Ram it up yer poop chute
Wrist-watch: Crisco
Ram it, ram it, ram it
Ram it up yer poop chute
Pud!
Don't fool yerself, girl,
It's goin' right up yer poop chute
Don't fool yerself, girl,
It's goin' right up yer poop chute
Don't fool yerself, girl,
It's goin' right up yer poop chute
(Ay ay ay ay)
Don't fool yerself, girl,
It's goin' right up yer poop chute
(Ay ay ay ay)
Don't fool yerself, girl,
It's goin' right up yer poooop chute
(Ay ay ay ay ay ay ay ay)
Don't fool yerself, girl,
It's goin' right up yer . . .