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Frank Zappa (vocals)
Denny Walley (vocals) Tommy Mars (keyboards) Peter Wolf (keyboards) Ed Mann (percussion) Patrick O'Hearn (bass, vocals) Arthur Barrow (bass) Vinnie Colaiuta (drums) Thank you, okay, sit down. Some more raw unbridled perfurnery for you and yours during this festive holiday season. A year ago today was when you went away But now you come back knocking on my door And you say you're back to stay, but I say I don't need you (I don't need you) I don't want you (I don't want you) I don't need you (Oh you treat me so bad baby) I don't love you (Oh you treat me like a piece of shit) I don't need you (Oh you know that's not it) I don't want you I can't use you (gotta get a little rubber girl) Need a rubber girl (rubber girl) Send me up a little rubber girl (y'know I can put it in the back) I got a rubber girl (got one with a 69 dollar battery pack) Here comes my rubber girl (my little rubber girl) A little rubber girl (she loves to do anything I want) Little rubber girl (my little rubber girl) My little rubber girl (I pull the string and she can do anything) I know she loves me (I can put it in the back) I know she loves me (I can put it in the front crack) I know she loves me (I can push her tonsils down her throat) I know she loves me (and make that bitch scream like a goat) I never have no trouble with my rubber girl (I like to bend her over and ram it all the way in) I never have no trouble with my rubber girl (and then go back and do it again) I never have no trouble with my litle rubber girl (y'know you treated me like shit) I never have no trouble with my little rubber girl (Ahh, that's why I never find me a lady) I love my little rubber girl (little rubber girl) I never have no trouble with my little rubber girl (she's a lonely girl) I never have no trouble with my rubber girl (I just pull the string and she pumps up fast) And she dances great! (She likes to put it in the back, I gotta girl) Little rubber girl (You know I fuck you every day) Run-nnn-nn-nnn (and you treat me like shit) Run-nnn-nn-nnn (fuck you bitch I'm gonna rape) Run-nnn-nn-nnn (my little rubber girl) Run-nnn-nn-nnn (Little rubber girl) Little rubber girl (oh my little rubber girl) Little rubber girl (oh my little rubber girl) Little rubber girl (hey my little rubber girl) (Is this the right time to put you in heaven baby) You know, me and my rubber girl We get along really swell, we never argue. Three holes, no waiting |
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Frank Zappa (guitar, vocals, drum machine)
Steve Vai (guitar, acoustic guitar) Ray White (guitar, vocals) Roy Estrada (vocals) Bob Harris (boy soprano) Ike Willis (vocals) Bobby Martin (keyboards, saxophone, vocals) Tommy Mars (keyboards) Arthur Barrow (keyboards, bass, micro bass, rhythm guitar) Ed Mann (percussion) Scott Thunes (bass) Chad Wackerman (drums) Vinnie Colaiuta (drums) Craig Steward (harmonica) Dick Fegy (mandolin) Marty Krystall (saxophone) This is a song about the union, friends How they fucked you over and the way they bends The rules to suit a special few And you gets pooched every time the do You know we gotta stick together You know we gotta stick together You know we gotta stick together You know we gotta stick together Once upon a time the idea was good If only they'd a done what they said they would It ain't no better, they's makin' it worse The labor movement's got the Mafia curse You know we gotta stick together You know we gotta stick together You know we gotta stick together You know we gotta stick together Don't be no fool, don't be no dope Common sense is your only hope When the union tells you it's time to strike Tell the motherfucker to take a hike You know we gotta stick together You know we gotta stick together You know we gotta stick together You know we gotta stick together (repeats) |
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You know your mama and your daddy sayin' I'm no good for you
They call me dirty from the alley 'til I don't know what to do. I get so tired of sneakin' around just to get to your back door I crawled past the garbage and your mama jumped out screamin': Don't come back no more I can't take it! My guitar wants to kill your mama My guitar wants to kill your mama My guitar wants to burn your dad I get real mean when it makes me mad. Later I tried to call you your mama told me you weren't there. She told me don't bother to call again unless I cut off all my hair. I get so tired of sneakin' around just to get to your back door I crawled past the garbage and your mam jumped out screamin': Don't come back no more I can't take it! Later I tried to call you ... My guitar wants to kill your mama ... My guitar wants to kill your mama! (4x) |
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I'm a little pimp with my hair gassed back
Pair a khaki pants with my shoe shined black Got a little lady... walk that street Tellin' all the boys that she cain't be beat Twenny dollah bill (I can set you straight) Meet me onna corner boy'n don't be late Man in a suit with a bow-tie neck Wanna buy a grunt with a third party check Standin' onna porch of the Lido Hotel Floozies in the lobby love the way I sell: HOT MEAT HOT RATS HOT CATS HOT RITZ HOT ROOTS HOT SOOTS HOT MEAT HOT RATS HOT CATS HOT ZITZ HOT ROOTS HOT SOOTS |
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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 Iwould 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 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) 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) |
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Frank Zappa (guitar, synclavier)
Steve Vai (guitar) Ray White (guitar, vocals) Tommy Mars (keyboards) Chuck Wild (piano) Arthur Barrow (bass) Scott Thunes (bass) Jay Anderson (string bass) Ed Mann (percussion) Chad Wackerman (drums) Ike Willis (vocals) Terry Bozzio (vocals) Dale Bozzio (vocals) Napoleon Murphy Brock (vocals) Bob Harris (vocals) Johnny "Guitar" Watson (vocals) BROWN MOSES: (singing) Oh-oh! Wait a minute! What? What wickedness id dis? De way you's carryin' on! Dis pygmy I be clutchin' Have been lef' out on de lawn! De daddy were ne-GLIJ-ible, De mama were de-FLATE-able, De trauma to de imfunt Be mostly not ne-GATE-able Yo' urgin' to be exitin' Because of dem fla-min-i-go's Be thoroughly perplexin' him Because of where yo' petuh goes If only you been 'siderate Erbout dis lil' illiterate I wouldna been trudgin' cross de san' Fum way down yonder in E-gyp-lan' Dey callin' me BROWN MOSES, Fo' dat id sho'ly what I am, Ancient an' re-lij-er-mus Solemn an' pres-tig-i-mus Wisdom reekin' outa me 'Long wif summa dis baby pee 'Minds me of dem River Weeds 'N all dem ignint Bible deeds Growed up in de Pharaoh place, Lef' de sucker in disgrace! Some dem boys refuse to loin Somthin' smokin': Somthin' boin! Somethin' borry: Somethin' blue! Best keeps a lil' paper In yo shoe! Hear me when I's tellin' you: Leavin' de midgit were WRONG T'DO! It's a terr'ble thang, done did to him Left wit de crab-grass Over his chin! Sho'ly one day he will grow, 'N put some shit In yo' sack o' woe OL' BROWN MOSES now have spoke! Could ya lends me 'bout a dollar? I's a tiny bit broke I likes my wine I loves my gin 'N fo a lil' collateral, I'll gives ya HIM! A lil' collateral, I'll gives ya HIM! A lil' collateral, I'll gives ya HIM! I said a lil' collateral, A lil' collateral, A lil' collateral, A lil' collateral, A lil' collateral, I'll gives ya HIM! I'll gives ya HIM! |
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Frank Zappa (lead guitar)
Ike Willis (guitar, vocals) Ray White (guitar, lead vocals) Bobby Martin (keyboards, saxophone, vocals) Alan Zavod (keyboards) Scott Thunes (bass) Chad Wackerman (drums) Well well well, now, dis de nasty sucker dat be respondable fo de enwhiffment o de origumal potium. Now in his infinate respondable party personage as de Evil Prince and through de magik o stage-kraft of course, wes about to see what gwine on in his magikal conjurance up of his little cauldrom of doom! Now check it on out now Somewhere, over there, I can tell, I guess so Theres the voice of A potato-headed whatchamacallit Whoo, do tell! Who does not wish me well! His clothes are quite stupid, And also his shoes! Ain't no bussiness like show business He's got a big ol duck-mouth! Who knows how he chews! He thinks he knows something About THE GREAT PLAN! How ULTIMATE BLANDNESS Must RULE and COMMAND He knows not a drop, Not a crumb, Not a whit, Of the reason for doing This criminal shit And then, if he did, Would it matter a bit? Not at all! Because IT IS WRIT: Our BEIGE-BLANDISH GOD Tends to CERTIFY IT: Only the boring and bland shall survive! Only the lamest of lameness will thrive! Take it or leave it, you wont be alive, If you are overtly CREATIVE! Fairies and faggots and queers are CREATIVE All the best music on Broadway is NATIVE Who will step forward And end all this trouble? For beige-blandish citizens, Clutching the rubble Of vanishing dreams Of wimpish amusement, Replaced by a rash Of CREATIVE confusement! Soon, my brave Zombies, Youll make your return! Broadway will glow! Broadway will burn! (Along with the remnants of EVERYTHING NEW) My HOLY DISEASE will do Wonders for you! Those lovely producers Who paid for you then Will do it again, and again, and again! The spying potato The spying potato With horrible diction And terrible diction Will rot in the garbage I can smell it right now When this shows eviction Takes place shortly after My alternate skill Of THEATRICAL SABOTAGE Triumphs YOUR will! I've a special review Yes I know you really do! I've been saving for years Yes I know you really have For a show just like this, For a really stupid show With POTATOES and QUEERS I'll say its disgusting, atrocious, and dull I'll say it makes boils inside of your skull I'll say its the worst -of-the-worst of the year, No wind down the plain, and its hard on your ear I'll say its the work of an infantile mind I'll say that its tasteless, and that you will find A better excuse to spend money or time At a Tupper-Ware Party, wee-oo So, do be a smarty! Oo-oo-wee-oo Hold on to that dollar A little while longer For spending it here, Why, it couldnt be wronger! WHATS HAPPENED TO BROADWAY? WHERES IT GONE, ALL THE GLITTER? THE HEART AND SOUL THE PATTER? THE PITTER? And after this deadly review hits the paper, In will come ROPER, BENDER & RAPER, To legally execute all that remains Of this tragic amusement for drug-addled brains Drug-addled brains, drug addled brains (solo) Hold on to that g-string A little while longer For spending it here, Why, it couldnt be wronger! WHATS HAPPENED TO BROADWAY? WHERES IT GONE, ALL THE GLITTER? THE HEART AND SOUL THE PATTER? THE PITTER? And after this deadly review hits the paper, In will come ROPER, BENDER & RAPER, To legally execute all that remains Of this tragic amusement for drug-addled brains Hey hey, hey hey, hey hey, brai-hains . . . |
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FZ: Alright, that's the melody, now, here it is with the mouth, as performed at Eva's wedding... Come on Ruth, come on! Ah, come on Ruth, sing along, come on Ruth, harmonize with him... A-ren-ne-henna... Okay. Achtung! One two, one two three four...
Simmons funky What are wondering about (It's a hit!) Chester! [...] shoe Chester (Suzi) Singin' (Quatro) Funky Ruthie-Ruthie [...] teeth (Take the towels We want you to take them to your country No, don't pay us for the towels We insist Towels... Suitcase... Get it through customs for her) FZ: And now, here is way number three: With the feet! Hey! It's so modern... Can't have any of that! FZ: Later on we'll have a dance-contest and some lucky member of the audience will win a quart of Finnish champagne! George: That's a good... That's a good... FZ: Just wanna see how long... Right! Okay... Alright, now here it is, all the way through... So exhilarating... Guy in the audience: Eric Dolphy Memorial Barbecue! FZ: Hey! That's a good idea, isn't it? Another guy: This guy has ESP! FZ: Thank you! Thank you very much. Thank you, and thank you. And thank you some more, and thank you very much, and thank you, and thank you... KIITOS! Thank you, and thank you... |
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Frank Zappa (guitar)
Ike Willis (vocals) Mike Keneally (guitar, synthesizer) Bobby Martin (keyboards) Ed Mann (percussion) Walt Fowler (trumpet, vocals) Bruce Fowler (trombone) Paul Carman (alto saxophone) Albert Wing (tenor saxophone) Kurt McGettrick (baritone saxophone) Scott Thunes (bass) Chad Wackerman (drums) Awright, welcome, and good evening to the baseball game. Im Skip Carey, and with Keith Van Weiren (?) For another game between the Atlanta Braves and the Chicago Cubs. The braves are featuring another outstanding cast. (Arf!) We got a wonderful cast of characters here. Hes a home run interim RBA leader for the year, what do you think? Well uh, I don't know what the problem is with these Braves this year theyve really been having trouble with one run games, on Sundays for some reason I don't know what it is, what do you think. Well Pete eh . . . the Dodgers had that problem last year, lot of one run games specially on Sundays, well they suddenly ended up uhhhh.... last in the league. Uhhhh.... Coming over here, Zane Smith is pitchin today and I hear hes got good stuff. Well actually I think the main problem is eh the rookies, the rookies have just not be coming through. They havent been able to handle that curve ball. Seems to me like they really don't go over that. Oh here he goes, smash foul. He doesnt look to the plate. (That goes for your little dog, too!) He really gets a hold of that one, its gone. Yes, Elvis has left the building! (An that goes for your little dog, too! An that goes for your little dog, too!) Move away for the seventh inning stretch after theeeeee... game They're singing. He swung on it and missed Smash foul Fans getting out of here in a hurry. The player steps out to the plate. (Arf!) Take me out to the game. Uh, you can buy me some peanuts and crackerjacks. I don't care if he never gets back. Swung on it and missed... |
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| Disc 2 | ||||||
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Frank Zappa (vocals)
Ray White (guitar, vocals) Steve Vai (guitar, vocals, zucchini) Tommy Mars (keyboards, vocals) Bobby Martin (keyboards, saxophone) Ed Mann (percussion) Scott Thunes (bass) Chad Wackerman (drums) (somebody in the crowd yells in something in French... what is it?) You know today the church is in a terrible state. The bucks just arent rollin in like they used to. And when the bucks don't come in, the church comes up with a new gimmick to make you spend to go to heaven. Now I know you don't know what I'm talking about, but what the fuck. But anyway, listen to this ladies and gentlemen, when the church wants to get your money they remind you about hell. (Whoo-hoo-hoo-ha-ha) If you commit a sin you're gonna go to hell. (oui-oui) Well let me give you an example, this boy over here; Tell em about it Brother Zappa. Sometimes people say: That if you fuck somebody (oh lord) its a sin, (oui-oui) this may or may not be true. (Testify) This boy not only fucked somebody with his organ, but he also fucked a girl with a guitar, with an umbrella, with a zuchinni, with a shoe, with an enema bag . . . What else did you do? A vibrato bar. A vibrato bar! Some people would say this is a sin. And if you sin youre gonna go to hell. Well ladies and gentlemen: There aint no hell. (oui) There is no such thing as hell. (oui) There is no hell, there is only France! (oui-oui) Oui, oui |
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Frank Zappa (lead guitar)
Ike Willis (guitar, vocals) Ray White (guitar, vocals) Bobby Martin (keyboards, saxophone, vocals) Alan Zavod (keyboards) Scott Thunes (bass) Chad Wackerman (drums) Act II SCENE FOURTEEN OUTSIDE NOW JOE: (somewhat exhausted) These executives have plooked the fuck out of me And there's still a long time to go before I've Paid my debt to society And all I ever really wanted to do was Play the guitar 'n bend the string like Reent-toont-teent-toont-teenooneenoonee I've got it I'll be sullen and withdrawn I'll dwindle off into the twilight realm Of my own secret thoughts I'll lay on my back here 'til dawn In a semi-catatonic state And dream of guitar notes That would irritate An executive kinda guy... And sure enough JOE dreams up a few of those guitar notes that every executive despises...those low ones...every exec knows it's only the records with the high squeally ones that get to be hits (except for Duane Eddy)... Well, I guess that one did the trick If they only coulda heard it Half-a-dozen of em woulda strangled While they was suckin on each others' dick But that was just a bunch of imaginary Notes I played Just a little extra somethin' To keep me goin from day to day That's okay I'll be gettin outta here pretty soon Then I won't have to live In this ugly fuckin room Can't wait to see I can't wait to see what it's like On the outside now . . . Can't wait to see I can't wait to see what it's like On the outside now . . . Can't wait to see I can't wait to see what it's like On the outside now . . . Can't wait to see I can't wait to see what it's like On the outside now . . . Can't wait to see I can't wait to see what it's like On the outside now . . . Can't wait to see I can't wait to see what it's like On the outside now . . . Can't wait to see I can't wait to see what it's like On the outside now . . . Can't wait to see I can't wait to see what it's like On the outside now . . . Can't wait to see I can't wait to see what it's like On the outside now . . . Outside now . . . And JOE just lays there, dreaming imaginary guitar notes for years on end, until finally they let him out... |
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Terry Bozzio (drums, background vocals)
Davey Moire (vocals) Andre Lewis (organ, vocals) Roy Estrada (bass, vocals) Dave Parlato (bass) Napoleon Murphy Brock (saxophone, vocals) Ruth Underwood (synthesizer, marimba) Donnie Vliet (harmonica) Louanne Neil (harp) Ruben Ladron De Guevara (background vocals) Sharkie Barker (background vocals) Disco Boy Run to the toilet, honey, Comb your hair Disco Boy Pucker yer lip, 'N check yer shoulder, 'Cause some dandruff might be Hidin' there! Disco Boy, You're the DISCO KING! Aw, the Disco-Thing Made you think Someday, That you Just might GO SOMEWHERE! Disco Girl! You're 'out-a-site'! You need a Disco Boy To treat you right He'll do a little dance; Take you home tonight (Leave his hair alone, But you can kiss his comb) Disco Boy! Run to the toilet boy, 'N comb your hair Disco Boy! Shake it more than three times 'n yer playin' with it (WOW!) While yer standin' there! (Well . . . ) Disco Boy! Do the Bump every night, 'til the Disco Girl Who's REALLY RIGHT Gonna fall for yer line, 'N feed you a box fulla Chicken Delight! Disco chit-chat; so demure! Pump that booty all across the floor! A disco drink A disco wink "You never go doody!" (That's what you think) "You never go doody!" (That's what you think) "You never go doody!" (That's what you think) Doody Ah, go doody Doody You never go doody Doody You never go doody Doody You never go doody Doody You never go doody Ah, baby, doody No doody Doody Ah, baby, doody Disco Boy! You got one more chance To comb your hair again Disco Boy! They're closin' the bar, And she's leavin' with your friend! Disco Boy, That's the way it goes, So wipe your nose, 'N try it again, To get a little laid tomorrow! Disco Boy, No one understands, But thank THE LORD That you still got hands To help you do that jerkin' that'll Blot out yer Disco Sorrow! It's Disco Love tonight Make sure you look all right It's Disco Love tonight Make sure you look all right |
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Frank Zappa (lead guitar, vocals)
Ike Willis (rhythm guitar, vocals) Ray White (rhythm guitar, vocals) Bob Harris (boy soprano, trumpet) Steve Vai (guitar) Tommy Mars (keyboards) Arthur Barrow (bass) Ed Mann (percussion) David Ocker (clarinet, bass clarinet) Motorhead Sherwood (tenor saxophone, vocals) Denny Walley (slide guitar, vocals) David Logeman (drums) Craig Steward (harmonica) Jimmy Carl Black (vocals) Ahmet Zappa (vocals) Moon Zappa (vocals) It's a miserable Friday night I'm so lonely And nobody'll give me a ride To the Grateful Dead concert...Oh rats! I got to be free Free as the wind Free is the way I got to be Maybe I'm lost Maybe I sinned I got to be Totally free Our parents don't love us Our teachers they say Things that are boring So we're running away And we will be free And people will see That when we are free That's the way we should be Nothing left to do but get out the 'ol glue (Sniff it good now...) Our parents don't love us Our teachers they say Things that are boring So we're running away And we will be free And people will see That when we are free That's the way we should be (WE MUST BE FREE!) The glue! The glue! I can't find the glue! (WE MUST BE FREE AS THE WIND) If I was at the concert now, I'd be RIPPED! (WE WERE FREE WHEN WE WERE BORN) I could tighten my headband for an extra rush During Jerry's guitar solo Then I could go to a midnite show of 200 MOTELS! (WE WERE BORN FREE, BUT, NOW WE ARE NOT FREE ANYMORE!) "Opal, you hot little bitch!" "You can take this pin n' hang it in yer ass!" "You ain't the devil!" "Where's my waitress?" BUT WE WANNA BE FREE AN' WERE GONNA BE FREE YES, WE WANT TO BE FREE AND WE'RE GONNA BE FREE ... did you know that FREE IS WHEN YOU DON'T HAVE TO PAY FOR NOTHING OR DO NOTHING WE WANT TO BE FREE FREE AS THE WIND FREE IS WHEN YOU DON'T HAVE TO PAY FOR NOTHING OR DO NOTHING WE WANT TO BE FREE FREE AS THE WIND FREE IS WHEN YOU DON'T HAVE TO PAY FOR NOTHING OR DO NOTHING WE WANT TO BE FREE FREE AS THE WIND FREE IS WHEN YOU DON'T HAVE TO PAY FOR NOTHING OR DO NOTHING WE WANT TO BE FREE FREE AS THE WIND |
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Frank Zappa (vocals, guitar)
Steve Vai (rhythm guitar) Ray White (rhythm guitar) Tommy Mars (keyboards) Bobby Martin (keyboards) Ed Mann (percussion) Truck driver divorce! It's very sad (Steel guitars Usually weep all over it) The bold & intelligent MASTERS OF THE ROAD With their Secret Language, And the GIANT OVER-SIZED MECHANICAL TRANS-CONTINENTAL HOBBY-HORSE! Truck driver divorce! It's very sad! Oh the wife! Oh the kids! Oh the waitress! Oh the drive all night! Sometimes when you get home Some ugly lookin' son-of-a-bitch Is trying to pooch yer HOME-TOWN SWEETHEART! Oh, go ride the bull! Oh, go ride the bull! Make it go up 'n down 'N when you fall off, You can eat the mattress! TRUCK DRIVER DIVORCE! IT'S VERY SAD! Bust yer ass To deliver some string beans, Deliver some string beans, Deliver some string beans, To UTAH! |
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Frank Zappa (guitar, vocals)
George Duke (keyboards, synthesizer, vocals) Napoleon Murphy Brock (flute, tenor saxophone, lead vocals) Chester Thompson (drums) Tom Fowler (bass) Ruth Underwood (vibes, marimba, percussion) Bloodshot Rollin' Red (harmonica) She was the daughter of a wealthy Florentine Pogen Read 'em 'n weep Was her adjustable slogan She was a debutante daisy With a color-note organ Deep in the street She drove a '59 Morgan That's the kinda step she takes When her hot breaks hot brakes That's the kinda sound she makes (ooh, let go uh me) When her crab cakes (Arf arf arf) She didn't like it when her fan belt Shrunk & got shorter (Ointment) Battery leak could nearly cost her a quarter She didn't want to stay home An' watch the pestle go mortar Later she speaks On how Perellis might court her Na-na-na-noo, etc. She was the daughter Ah-ah-ahhh Of a wealthy Florentine Pogen Po-oh-wo-oh-oh Po-oh-wo-oh-oh Po-oh-wo-oh-oh Ga-ya-ee-annnn Read 'em 'n weep Read 'em 'n weep Read 'em 'n weep etc. Chester's go-rilla She go quack Chester's go-rilla She go oink Chester's go-rilla She go moo Chester's go-rilla She go Hratche-plche Hratche-plche |
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Frank Zappa (vocals)
Lowell George (guitar, vocals) Roy Estrada (bass, vocals) Don Preston (keyboards, electronics) Buzz Gardner (trumpet) Ian Underwood (alto saxophone) Bunk Gardner (tenor saxophone) Motorhead Sherwood (baritone saxophone) Jimmy Carl Black (drums) Arthur Tripp (drums) You know sometimes in the middle in the night You get to feeling uptight And wish you were feelin alright And you know youre white And you ain't got no soul And theres no one with a hole nearby And therefore in your teen-age madness and delirium You toss and turn in your sweaty little grey teen-age sheets In that little room with the psychedelic posters And the red bulb And the incense And your bead collection And your country song round up books And you cry your tiny sick tears Tiny sick tears Tiny sick tears Tiny sick tears You know you gotto gotto gotto gotto Youve gotta find some relief from the terrible.. From the terrible ache thats clutching right at your heart Because its hurting you to your heart And your crying tiny sick tears And you have to go downstairs Out of your bedroom Out into the hall Down to the living room To the living room To the kitchen To the cookie jar Where you wanna get your cookies And you take the top off the cookie jar And you stick your tiny sick hand in the cookie jar And you reach around in the cookie jar To find a raisin cookie A spongy one with the little plump raisins A little tactile sensation for your tiny sick fingers Squeeze the raisin on the cookie Pull the cookie out of the jar Stuff the raisin into your eating hole Push it all the way in your eating hole Now make your eating hole wrap itself around the tiny sick cookie Scarve the cookie Put the lid back on the jar Go over to the ice box Open the ice box Pull out the box of milk Open the box of milk Into a triangular beak like that Pull the little triangular beak up to your drinking hole Up to your hole Pour the white fluid from the drinking box into your hole Close the beak Reinsert the box into the ice box Close the box door Walk out of the kitchen Through the living room Back up the stairs Past your sisters room Past your brothers room You take a mask from the ancient hallway Make it down to your fathers room And you walk in And your father, your tiny sick father Is beating his meat to a Playboy magazine Hes got it rolled into a tube And hes got his tiny sick pud stuffed in the middle of it Right flat up against the centerfold There he is your father with a tiny sick erection And you walk in and you say: Father I want to kill you And he says: Not now son, not now HANDS UP! OOOO LAAAA I know that its so hard stop playing this soul music, you know, cause it really . . . For one thing its really easy . . . And for another thing: It wastes a lot of time while were on stage. We learned in our travels that teenagers are ready to accept these two chords no matter how theyre played. It makes you feel secure, cause you know that after, did de dit de didde the other one is gonna come on. It never fails, simple . . . Some people would say its bullshit. But we love it, don't we kids? Meanwhile . . . |
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Frank Zappa (lead guitar, vocals)
Napoleon Murphy Brock (saxophone, vocals) George Duke (keyboards) Ruth Underwood (percussion) Tom Fowler (bass) Chester Thompson (drums) FZ: Now the sound that you hear in the background right now, is the sound caused by George Duke, agitating two metal insignias. These are badges that he removed from a coupla boogers that Marty tried to palm off on him in the last town that we was in. Actually theyre booger pasties and he's hitting the booger pasty with a little stick to get a very interesting musical effect, you know he does this every night. And sometimes he becomes so overwrought, so excited by the fact that he's actually touching a piece of metal that might have at one time come in contact with the actual flesh of a booger bear. And so sometimes he misses it. George: Oh, Lord have mercy . . . FZ: And he hits his thumb and he hurts hisself. Yes it hurts very much, but he likes pain. We can tell that he likes pain because he's in this group. George: But, but, its very close to other things . . . FZ: Yes but later that night after George was finished fondling the booger pasty, a thought came to his mind, how, how can I possibly get any nook tonight in (pasege ?) if I don't put this thing down and play the piano and get funky for these people. And so George, as you say in your language, took it away . . . George: But before we get funky, the continuing stories of . . . Napoleon: Moontrick . . . George: No, this aint moontrick this time, we go to moontrick next show. This is the continuing stories of the boogers of Marty Perellis. Do you all know who he is? There he is. Hes got a white shirt on an a . . . FZ: Your two-hunderd and fifty closest relatives, the Mothers of Invention . . . George: Yes, anyway, he was in my room. I invited some people over. Young ladies. They looked interesting. Their names shall go unmentioned. FZ: The reason they looked interesting is because they apparently were intelligent enough to dress themselves. George: Anyway what was happening was . . . nothing. Ha ha, wasnt nothing happening. So I said Lets get this party on the road. I said lemme call the roadmanager. I said whats your name. Mighty Perellis come down here and meet Miss Cool, Miss Dew & Miss eh, Miss Stool. So we, so Marty got in there and he was there about five minutes and all of a sudden I began to hear other things. I said what you doing over there? I said I never heard nobody do that king of thing before. I said come out of that corner, whats wrong with you, so he comissed it. We were all asking: Men what youre doing over there? FZ: Really whipping it, just whipping it into a frenzy. George: All of a sudden he was gone. I look around and Marty had took the Booger out of his room. I said: Where you going? He went down to his room which was room 33. An hour later I went to his room. I knocked on his door. I said: What you doin? He said . . . I said: Say that again. I said: Ho ho. It was late. We had an eight o clock wake up. You all know what that is. Eight o clock wake up, eight o clock wake up, eight o clock wake up, eight o clock wake up, eight o clock wake up, eight o clock wake up ahrrrrrr. So Marty came out in the hall and looked in the pool and he said, can I say this? He said: Smell my beard. I said: You must be crazy. Napoleon: I had to smell it . . . George: Show, how ywas walking Marty. And he said: Smell my beard. I said: I aint gonna smell nothing. Napoleon said: Ill . . . Napoleon: Check it out, I told you, check it out, make sure . . . George: Anyway if you wanna hear . . . Napoleon: You know what it smell like . . . FZ: Marty's odor. George: Come to the next show for the continuing stories of Napoleon: Marty's odor George: Marty's trick. But for now we go to . . . See also comments to track 10 "Let's Move To Cleveland Solos". |
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Frank Zappa (lead guitar, vocals)
Napoleon Murphy Brock (saxophone, vocals) George Duke (keyboards) Ruth Underwood (percussion) Tom Fowler (bass) Chester Thompson (drums) White juice on his beard Well the booger man White juice on his beard Get down White juice on his beard The booger man White juice on his beard In my room White juice on his beard Look at the booger White juice on his beard Then he was gone White juice on his beard Wait three hours White juice on his beard Didnt sing no song White juice on his beard I said: What youre doing None of your bizz Said what youre doing He said: None of your bizz His pants were sticking through his leg Talk about the Booger man His pants were sticking through his leg Right over there His pants were sticking through his leg Oh the Booger man His pants were sticking through his leg Had a bear His pants were sticking through his leg The Booger man Wonder why They ate after six Wonder why I said: What youre doing Wonder why With you ole tricks Wonder why Oh Lord the Booger man His pants were sticking through his leg In my room His pants were sticking through his leg Damn little booger White stuff on his beard Till my noon White stuff on his beard What youre doing White cream on his beard In my bed White cream on his beard With that booger His pants were sticking through his leg Instead His pants were sticking through his leg Somebody find Smell my beard is what he said Somebody find, find, find Smell my beard is what he said Somebody find, find, find Sho was good Somebody made me do this The Booger man get on down The Booger man had a crown On his head now Cleaned his shoes In his bed now, playin the blues, oh yeah. Ah, lord. George: Personally I aint got nothing against no boogers y'know every now and then you know . . . FZ: Yes, just listen to George all you boogers in the audience. This is Georges plea. George: But see, what you have to remember that uh, in the final analysis, a booger to one is not a booger to all, he he . . . Aint that right, aint that right? FZ: Thats right! George: Aint that right George: Please, get down Ruth . . . Napoleon: As Chester would say: A booger is in the eye of the beholder George: Sure is . . . |
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Diddelidid, Diddelidid
Diddelidid, Diddelidid Oh little girl of mine Gee, but you sure look fine Yes you appeal to me I'll never set you free Cause you mine loving baby You belong to me Thats the way it was meant to be Oh little girl stay cool Thats all I ask of you Be mine and mine alone Call me on the telephone Cause you're mine loving baby You belong to me That's the way it was meant to be Oh baby now I know I love you so I never -Ill never let you go I need your love oh so much I feel to your touch Oh little girl stay cool Thats all I ask of you Call me on the telephone Be mine lovin baby till the end of time I can't seem to get you off my mind Oh baby . . . Oh sugar.. Oh darling . . . Oh lover . . . Oh baby . . . . Oh sugar |
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Ray White (vocals)
Ike Willis (vocals) Bobby Martin (vocals) Tommy Mars (keyboards) Arthur Barrow (bass) Chad Wackerman (drums) The closer you are The brighter the stars in the sky And darling, I realize That you're the one in my life Oh oh My heart skips a beat Every time You and I meet My life, my love, my dear I can't defeat This yearning deep in my heart To have only you When I first saw you, I did adore you, And all your loving ways But then you went away, But now you're back to stay, And my love for you grows stronger every Day-ahhh Way-ahhh Way The closer you are, The brigher the flames in my heart, And darling, We'll never part We'll always be in love |
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And she said
Johnny Darlin Ah-ah-ah hoo-oo Dont ever go-o yea-heah Ah-ha-ha-haaa And she said: Johnny Darlin Ah-ah-ah hoo-oo Dont ever go-o yea-heah Ah-ha-ha-haaa And she said: Johnny Darlin Johnny Darling Don't ever go-o-o-oooo Oo-oo-oo-ooooooo |
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Frank zappa (vocals)
Ike willis (guitar, vocals) Ray white (guitar, vocals) Bobby martin (keyboards, saxophone, vocals) Alan zavod (keyboards) Scott thunes (bass) Chad wackerman (drums) Well I found out baby You told me a great big lie Well I found out baby You told me a great big lie Cause when I got inside You didn't have no cherry pie Well you had no no cherry No no cherry (x7) You had no no cherry No no cherry pie Shoob-doo-wa Shoob shoob doo wah Well you had me fakin baby Made me lose my pride Well you had me fakin baby Made me lose my pride Cause I caught you lying bout what you had inside And you had no no cherry No no cherry (x7) You had no no cherry No no cherry pie Shoob-doo-wa Shoob shoob doo wah No no (5x) Cherry Cherry Pie-ie-ie-ie |
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Well this is the story of a man
That lived in Pistoia This is the story of a man That lived in Pistoia He was a funny little fellow With feet just like I showed ya Well he had a girl And Tony got her for him Well he had a girl But Sinobbio says he got it She did everything for him That she could do But still (still still) He locked her in the bathroom But still (still still) He locked her in the bathroom Then he took her to Milan and locked her in the hotel too Oh Mary Lou (Mary Lou, Mary Lou ) Oh child you big fool (big fool, big fool) Oh Mary Lou (Mary Lou, Mary Lou ) Oh child you big fool (big fool, big fool) You did everything for him That you could do |
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Frank Zappa (lead vocals)
Ike Willis (guitar, vocals) Steve Vai (guitar) Tommy Mars (keyboards, vocals) Bobby Martin (keyboards, saxophone, vocals) Ed Mann (percussion) Scott Thunes (bass) Chad Wackerman (drums) Im gonna tell you a story about Mary Lou I mean the kind of a girl who make a fool of you Shed make a young man groan and a poor man pain The way she took my money was a cryin shame Mary Lou - she took my watch and chain Mary Lou - she took my diamond ring Mary Lou - she took my Cadillac car Jumped in my kitty and then drove afar Well, she picked up from Georgia, moved to Kalamazoo Made her a fortune outa fools like you Met her a rich man who was married and had two kids She stoked that cat till he flipped his lid Mary Lou - she took my watch and chain Mary Lou - she took my diamond ring Mary Lou - she took my Cadillac car Jumped in my kitty and then drove afar Well, she came back to town about a week ago Told me she was sorry she had hurt me so I had a 55 Ford and a two dollar bill The way she took that man she gave me a chill Mary Lou - she took my watch and chain Mary Lou - she took my diamond ring Mary Lou - she took my Cadillac car Jumped in my kitty and then drove afar Mary Lou (Mary Lou, Mary Lou ) And (?) too (big fool, big fool) Ahh, Mary Lou (Mary Lou, Mary Lou) Oh child you big fool (big fool, big fool) You did everything for him that you could do Mary Lou, Mary Lou (3x) Awright, thank you for coming to the show, goodnight |
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