| Disc 1 | ||||||
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| 1. |
| - | 
|
|||
|
I Have Been In You - From the CD "Sheik Yerbouti"
I have been in you, baby And you have been in me And we have be so intimately entwined And it sure was fine I have been in you, baby And you have been in me And so you see we have be so together I thought that we would never Return from Forever (Return from Forever) (Return from Forever) You have been in me And understandably I have been in 'n' outta you (in 'n' outta you, in 'n' outta you) And everywhere, you want me to (in 'n' outta yoooou) Yes you know it's true; And while (I was inside) I might have been (undignified) And that is maybe (why you cried) I don't know, Maybe so But what's the difference now? I have been in you baby You have been in me Aw' little girl there ain't no time To wash your stinky hand Go head 'n' roll over I'm goin' in you again in you again in you again in you again... I'm going in you again-ahhh In you again, ah! In you again-aah! In you again, ah! In you again-aah! In you again, ah! Now I'm goin' in you again baby 'N' you can go in me too, that's true I'm goin' in you again, baby 'N' later when we get through I'm going in you again-ahh! In you again, ah! In you again-aah! In you again, ah! In you again-aah! In you again, ah! |
||||||
| 2. |
| - |
|
|||
|
Frank Zappa (lead guitar, vocals)
Adrian Belew (rhythm guitar, vocals) Tommy Mars (keyboards, vocals) Peter Wolf (keyboards) Patrick O'Hearn (bass, vocals) Terry Bozzio (drums, vocals) Ed Mann (percussion, vocals) Napoleon Murphy Brock (background vocals) Andre Lewis (background vocals) Randy Thornton (background vocals) Davey Moire (background vocals) 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, them whole damn weekend came 'n' went, Frankie Wanna buy some mandies, Bob? 'N' they didn't do nothin' But they charged me double for Sunday You know, no matter what you do, They gonna cheat 'n' rob you Then they'll send you a bill That'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, the toilet went crazy Yersterday 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 Blew up the next day WOO-OOO 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 But 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... |
||||||
| 3. |
| - |
|
|||
|
Frank Zappa (lead guitar, vocals)
Adrian Belew (rhythm guitar, vocals) Tommy Mars (keyboards, vocals) Peter Wolf (keyboards) Patrick O'Hearn (bass, vocals) Terry Bozzio (drums, vocals) Ed Mann (percussion, vocals) Napoleon Murphy Brock (background vocals) Andre Lewis (background vocals) Randy Thornton (background vocals) Davey Moire (background vocals) Hey! Do you know what you are? You're an asshole! An 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... Maybe you think you're a lonely guy 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 ever saw 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 story 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-seventy-nine pounds of Samoan dynamite Which gave your back an awful strain Volcanic Hell But you came back on Sunday for the gong show 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 Now you been to The Grape 'n' you been to The Chest 'N' now I think you know what you are: you're an asshole You say you can't live with what you 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 (etc., repeats) Aw, I knew you'd be surprised... |
||||||
| 4. |
| - |
|
|||
|
Frank Zappa (lead guitar, vocals)
Adrian Belew (rhythm guitar, vocals) Tommy Mars (keyboards, vocals) Peter Wolf (keyboards) Patrick O'Hearn (bass, vocals) Terry Bozzio (drums, vocals) Ed Mann (percussion, vocals) Napoleon Murphy Brock (background vocals) Andre Lewis (background vocals) Randy Thornton (background vocals) Davey Moire (background vocals) One Two Three Four! Feelin' sorry Feelin' sad So many ugly people I feel bad I'm so cute They're so homely Some of them At home 'n' lonely Wish they could be Very cute like me But they will never Get to be Some folks got it Some folks don't Some so ugly They never won't Everybody See his hair See his clothes I'm sure you care Terry Ted Is really sweet Watch the way he keep the beat Sweet as honey He's a piece of cake >From the ginseng root 'N' stuff he take Vitamin E 'N' all the B's He's so cool he'll make you freeze Make you freeze Make you freeze Excuse me please Step aside I'm gonna ride I'm gonna strut I'm gonna slide Hey, ugly folks, Go get some cyanide An' die DIE DIE DIE DIE A-ren-nen-nen-ah-ren-nen-nen A-ren-nen-nen-uh-rennda A-ren-nen-nen-ah-ren-nen-nen A-rennda-rennda-rahhh (etc. repeats) Ugly is bad And bad is wrong And wrong is sinful And sin leads to eternal damnation An' hot burnin' fire Hot burnin' fire Hot burnin' fire Hot burnin' fire Screams of agony Screams of agony Screams of agony Screams of agony Arrrrrrrghhhhhhh! One Two Three Four I'm so cute! I'm so cute! I'm so cute! I'm so cute! (etc. repeats) |
||||||
| 5. |
| - |
|
|||
|
Frank Zappa (lead guitar, vocals)
Adrian Belew (rhythm guitar, vocals) Tommy Mars (keyboards, vocals) Peter Wolf (keyboards) Patrick O'Hearn (bass, vocals) Terry Bozzio (drums, vocals) Ed Mann (percussion, vocals) Napoleon Murphy Brock (background vocals) Andre Lewis (background vocals) Randy Thornton (background vocals) Davey Moire (background vocals) My baby's got Jones crushin' love Jones crushin' love Jones crushin' love Well my baby's got Jones crushin' love Jones crushin' love Jones crushin' love She don't merely fit like a glove That little girl's got the jones That little girl's got the jones That little girl's got the jones She's tryin' to Grind up my jones Grind up my jones Grind up my jones Well, she's tryin' to Grind up my jones Grind up my jones Grind up my jones She don't never wanna leave it alone She can push; she can shove Till it's just a nub She can push; she can shove Till it's just a nub Just a nub Just a nub Here she comes With her red dress on Steam shoots out >From the sprinklers on the lawn The eyes be rollin' On the concrete fawn The wind can't blow 'Cause the sky is gone The wind can't blow 'Cause the sky is gone The wind can't blow 'Cause the sky is gone Jones crusher, jones crusher Deadly jaws, better get the gauze She's a jones crusher, jones crusher Deadly jaws, better get the gauze (etc. ad lib) |
||||||
| 6. |
| - | 
|
|||
| 7. |
| - |
|
|||
|
Frank Zappa (lead guitar, vocals)
Adrian Belew (rhythm guitar, vocals) Tommy Mars (keyboards, vocals) Peter Wolf (keyboards) Patrick O'Hearn (bass, vocals) Terry Bozzio (drums, vocals) Ed Mann (percussion, vocals) Napoleon Murphy Brock (background vocals) Andre Lewis (background vocals) Randy Thornton (background vocals) Davey Moire (background vocals) (Instrumental) |
||||||
| 8. |
| - |
|
|||
| 9. |
| - |
|
|||
|
(Ooh . . . )
A real hologram! (We sure do!) I mean: not real, but almost a real hologram Hey there, people, I'm Bobby Brown They say I'm the cutest boy in town My car is fast, my teeth is shiney Tell all the girls they can kiss my heinie (Tiny heinie ho!) Here I am at a famous school (Gonna fly now) I'm dressin' sharp I'm actin' cool I got a cheerleader here wants to help with my paper Let her do all the work 'n maybe later I'll rape her Oh God I am the American dream I do not think I'm too extreme An' I'm a handsome son-of-a-bitch Gonna get a good job 'n be real rich (Get a good, get a good, get a good, get a good . . . ) Women's Liberation Came creepin' across the nation I tell you people, I was not ready When I fucked this dyke by the name of Freddie She made a little speech then, Aw, she tried to make me say when She had my balls in a vice, but she left the dick I guess it's still hooked on, but now it shoots too quick Oh God I am the American dream But now I smell like Vaseline An' I'm a miserable sonofabitch Am I a boy or a lady . . . I don't know which (I wonder wonder, Hi-Yo, Silver!) So I went out 'n bought me a leisure mask I jingle my change, but I'm still kinda cute Got a job doin' radio promo (Gonna fly now) An' none of the jocks can even tell i'm a homo Eventually me 'n a friend Sorta of drifted along into S&M (YA!) I can take about an hour on the tower of power 'Long as I gets a little golden shower Oh God I am the American dream With a spindle up my butt till it makes me scream An' I'll do anything to get ahead Hi-Yo, Silver! Oh God, Oh God, I'm so fan . . . Hi-Yo, Silver! And my name is Bobby Brown And my name is Bobby Brown Hi-Yo, Silver! Away! And my name is Bobby Brown Hi-Yo, Silver! |
||||||
| 10. |
| - |
|
|||
|
Frank Zappa (lead guitar, vocals)
Adrian Belew (rhythm guitar, vocals) Tommy Mars (keyboards, vocals) Peter Wolf (keyboards) Patrick O'Hearn (bass, vocals) Terry Bozzio (drums, vocals) Ed Mann (percussion, vocals) Napoleon Murphy Brock (background vocals) Andre Lewis (background vocals) Randy Thornton (background vocals) Davey Moire (background vocals) Yeah, I knew you'd be surprised! |
||||||
| 11. |
| - |
|
|||
|
Frank Zappa (lead guitar, vocals)
Adrian Belew (rhythm guitar, vocals) Tommy Mars (keyboards, vocals) Peter Wolf (keyboards) Patrick O'Hearn (bass, vocals) Terry Bozzio (drums, vocals) Ed Mann (percussion, vocals) Napoleon Murphy Brock (background vocals) Andre Lewis (background vocals) Randy Thornton (background vocals) Davey Moire (background vocals) Why dontcha take it down the seashore, Bernie? |
||||||
| 12. |
| - |
|
|||
|
Baby Snakes
Late at night is when they come out Baby Snakes Sure you know what I'm talkin' about Pink 'n' wet They make the best kinda pet Baby Baby Snakes Looked around An' there's a couple right near me Baby Snakes Maybe I think they can probably hear me Pink 'n' wet I'll take all I can get Baby Baby Sna-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-kes, Yeah They live in a ho-ho-hole (Tiny hole) That is usually empty (usually empty, tiny too) They live by a code (Dit dit dit dit) That is usually SMPTE Which stands for *Society of Motion Picture & Television Engineers* Maybe I think That is what keeps them in sync They're wet 'n' they're pink I think I'll give 'em a, give 'em a, Give 'em a drink Baby Sna-a-a-a-a-akesss |
||||||
| 13. |
| - |
|
|||
|
Frank Zappa (lead guitar, vocals)
Adrian Belew (rhythm guitar, vocals) Tommy Mars (keyboards, vocals) Peter Wolf (keyboards) Patrick O'Hearn (bass, vocals) Terry Bozzio (drums, vocals) Ed Mann (percussion, vocals) Napoleon Murphy Brock (background vocals) Andre Lewis (background vocals) Randy Thornton (background vocals) Davey Moire (background vocals) Hey! I'm only fourteen Sickly 'n' thin Tried all of my life Just to grow me a chin It popped out once But my dad pushed it in Why did he hurt me? He's my next of kin... He's a mex-i-kin I'm lonely 'n' green Too small for my shirt If Simmons was here I could feature my hurt Scared of the future Hope I don't grow I know nobody likes me 'Cause everywhere I go They say NO They say NO They say NO Now I'm older Got a place in the town, babe Got a chin on my shoulder 'N' it keeps growing down 'n' down 'n' down I'm horny 'n' lonely 'N' I wish I was dead Why am I livin'? I wanna be dead instead That's right, I said I wanna be dead instead Now dig this: I wanna be dead In bed Please kill me 'Cause that would thrill me I wanna be dead In bed Please kill me 'Cause that would thrill me (etc, repeat) |
||||||
| 14. |
| - |
|
|||
| 15. |
| - |
|
|||
|
I don't know much about dancin,
Or why I got this song, One of my legs is shorter than the other and both my feets too long. Course now right along with 'em, I got no natural rhythm, But I go dancin' every night, hopein' one night I might get it right! (Chorus) I'm a Dancin' Fool (Dancin' fool) Dancin' Fool. I'm a Dancin' Fool (Dancin' fool) Dancin' Fool When I hear that beat, I jump outta my seat, When I hear the beat cuz' I'm a, Dancin Fool (Dancin' fool) Dancin' Fool Disco folks all dressed up, Like theys fit to kill, I walk on in, see 'em there, I'm gonna give them all a thrill. When they see me comin', They all steps aside, They has a fit while I commit, My Social Suicide! (Chorus) I'm a Dancin' Fool (Dancin' fool) Dancin' Fool. I'm a Dancin' Fool (Dancin' fool) Dancin' Fool When the beat goes on I'm so wrong. Beat goes on and I'm so wrong. Beat goes on and I'm so wrong. The beat goes on and I'm so wrong, The beat goes on and I'm so wrong, The beat goes on and I'm so wrong, The beat goes on and I'm so wrong! I may be totally wrong but I'm a, Dancin Fool I may be totally wrong but I'm a, Dancin' Fool (Yowza, Yowza, Yowza) I got it all together now, My very own disco flow, hey hey, My shirts half open, to show you my chains, and the spoon fer up my nose. I am really something, Thats what you'd probably say, So smoke your little smoke, Drink your little drink, While I dance the night away! (Chorus) I'm a Dancin' Fool. I'm a Dancin' Fool. I'm a Dancin' Fool. I'm a Dancin' Fool. He's a Dancin' Fool I may be totally wrong but I'm a, (Music) I may be totally wrong but I'm a, (Music) I may be totally wrong but I'm a, (Music) I may be totally wrong but I'm a, FOOL! ya. (hey darlin can I buy ya a couple a drinks???) |
||||||
| 16. |
| - |
|
|||
|
Jewish Princess Lyrics
I want a nasty little Jewish Princess With long phony nails and a hairdo that rinses A horny little Jewish Princess With a garlic aroma that could level Tacoma Lonely inside Well, she can swallow my pride I want a hairy little Jewish Princess With a brand new nose, who knows where it goes I want a steamy little Jewish Princess 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 Who don't know shit about cooking and is arrogant looking 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...everybody twist I want a funky little Jewish Princess A grinder; a bumper, with a pre-moistened dumper A brazen little Jewish Princess With titanic tits, 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 With a couple of sisters who can raise a few blisters A fragile little Jewish Princess 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 |
||||||
| 17. |
| - |
|
|||
|
Frank Zappa (lead guitar, vocals)
Adrian Belew (rhythm guitar, vocals) Tommy Mars (keyboards, vocals) Peter Wolf (keyboards) Patrick O'Hearn (bass, vocals) Terry Bozzio (drums, vocals) Ed Mann (percussion, vocals) Napoleon Murphy Brock (background vocals) Andre Lewis (background vocals) Randy Thornton (background vocals) Davey Moire (background vocals) David Ocker (clarinet) Many well-dressed people In several locations Are kissing quite a bit Later in the evening Leaves will fall Tears will flow Wind will blow Some rain; some snow A fireplace maybe A kiss or two And down they'll go But that's the way it goes sometimes You just might find yourself in the clutches of some Wild Love Mama stroked his dinger Daddy got a stinky finger In those days of long ago Later in the evening She'd complain They'd refrain He'd go home and hone his bone A tragic case maybe But also true I'm sure you know But that's the way it goes sometimes You just might find yourself in the clutches of some Wild Love Now'days you get dressed up 'N' later you get messed up But still you're pretty hip Later in the evening You'll explain She'll remain You're real modern She's the same A frantic pace maybe But who's to say Where it will go |
||||||
| 18. |
| - |
|
|||
|
Frank Zappa (lead guitar, vocals)
Adrian Belew (rhythm guitar, vocals) Tommy Mars (keyboards, vocals) Peter Wolf (keyboards) Patrick O'Hearn (bass, vocals) Terry Bozzio (drums, vocals) Ed Mann (percussion, vocals) Napoleon Murphy Brock (background vocals) Andre Lewis (background vocals) Randy Thornton (background vocals) Davey Moire (background vocals) Maybe you should stay with yo' mama She could do your laundry 'n' cook for you Maybe you should stay with yo' mama You're really kinda stupid 'n' ugly too (verse repeats) You ain't really made for bein' out in the street Ain't much hope for a fool like you 'Cause if you play the game, you will get beat Maybe you should stay with yo' mama She could do your laundry 'n' cook for you Maybe you should stay with yo' mama You're really kinda stupid 'n' ugly too And You should never smoke in pajamas You might start a fire 'n' burn yer face Maybe you'll return to Managua You could go unnoticed in such a place |
||||||
|
