You Are What You Is

You Are What You Is

(Zappa, 2LP, Barking Pumpkin PW2 37537, September 23, 1981)

  1. Teen-age Wind 3:02
  2. Harder Than Your Husband 2:28
  3. Doreen 4:44
  4. Goblin Girl 4:06
  5. Theme From The 3rd Movement Of Sinister Footwear 3:31
  6. Society Pages 2:26
  7. I'm A Beautiful Guy 1:56
  8. Beauty Knows No Pain 3:01
  9. Charlie's Enormous Mouth 3:36
  10. Any Downers? 2:08
  11. Conehead 4:18
  12. You Are What You Is 4:23
  13. Mudd Club 3:11
  14. The Meek Shall Inherit Nothing 3:10
  15. Dumb All Over 4:03
  16. Heavenly Bank Account 3:44
  17. Suicide Chump 2:49
  18. Jumbo Go Away 3:43
  19. If Only She Woulda 3:47
  20. Drafted Again 3:07

July-September, 1980
UMRK

Produced by Frank Zappa
Engineers: Mark Pinske & Alan Sides
Re-mix engineer: Bob Stone
Engineering assistants: George Douglas & David Gray

John Livzey cover photo
John Vince graphics

FZ—Lead Guitar and Vocals
Ike Willis—Rhythm Guitar and Vocals
Ray White—Rhythm Guitar and Vocals
Bob Harris—Boy Soprano and Trumpet
Steve Vai—Strat Abuse
Tommy Mars—Keyboards
Arthur Barrow—Bass
Ed Mann—Percussion
David Ocker—Clarinet and Bass Clarinet
Motorhead Sherwood—Tenor Sax
Denny Walley—Slide Guitar
David Logeman—Drums
Craig "Twister" Steward—Harmonica

Guest Vocalists:
Jimmy Carl Black
Motorhead Sherwood
Ahmet
Moon
Mark Pinske
Denny Walley


[NOTE FROM THE MAINTAINER: The musicians listed below for each song are only guesses based on close listening, information from the session sheets and more stuff found here and there. Special thanks to Charles Ulrich.]

1. Teen-age Wind 3:02

Bob Harris—lead vocals
FZ—vocals
Ike Willis—vocals; rhythm guitar?
Ray White—vocals; rhythm guitar?
Jimmy Carl Black—voice
Steve Vai—stunt guitar
Tommy Mars—keyboards
Arthur Barrow—bass
David Logeman—drums

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've sinned
I got to be
Totally free
(Par-par-par-par . . . )

Our parents don't love us
(Parents, parents . . . )
Our teachers they say
(Parents, parents . . . )
Things that are boring
(Parents, parents . . . )
So we're running away
(Parents, parents . . . )
And we will be free
(Parents, parents . . . )
And people will see
(Parents, parents . . . )
That when we are free
(Parents, parents . . . )
That's the way we should be
(PARENTS . . . )

(Parents, parents . . . FRANCE . . . )
Nothing left to do but get out the 'ol glue
(Parents, parents . . . )
(Sniff it good now . . . )
(Parents, parents . . . FRANCE . . . )
(Parents, parents . . . )

I got to be free
Free as the wind
Free is the way
I got to be

Maybe I'm lost
Maybe I've sinned
I got to be
Totally free
(Dip-dip-dip-dip . . . )

Our parents don't love us
(Dipshit, dipshit . . . )
Our teachers they say
(Dipshit, dipshit . . . )
Things that are boring
(Dipshit, dipshit . . . )
So we're running away
(Dipshit, dipshit . . . )
And we will be free
(Dipshit, dipshit . . . )
And people will see
(Dipshit, dipshit . . . )
That when we are free
(Dipshit, dipshit . . . )
That's the way we should be
(DIPSHIT . . . )

(WE MUST BE FREE!)
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!)

BUT WE WANNA BE FREE
"Opal, you hot little bitch!"
SO WE'RE GONNA BE FREE
"You can take this pin 'n hang it in yer ass!"
AN' WE WANNA BE FREE
"You ain't the devil!"
SO WE'RE GONNA BE FREE
"Where's my waitress?"

. . . 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 WANNA . . . YEAH
WE WANNA . . . YEAH
WE WANNA . . . YEAH
WE WANNA BE FREE
WE'RE GONNA . . . YEAH
WE'RE GONNA . . . YEAH
WE'RE GONNA . . . YEAH
WE'RE GONNA BE FREE
WE GOTTA . . . YEAH
WE GOTTA . . . YEAH
WE GOTTA . . . YEAH
WE GOTTA BE FREE
WE GOTTA . . . YEAH
WE GOTTA . . . YEAH
WE GOTTA . . . YEAH
WE GOTTA BE FREE
WE GOTTA . . . GOTTA
GOTTA . . . GOTTA
GOTTA BE FREE
GOTTA BE FREE
GOTTA BE FREE
YEAH YEAH
WE GOTTA . . . GOTTA
GOTTA . . . GOTTA
GOTTA BE FREE
GOTTA BE FREE
GOTTA BE FREE
YEAH YEAH
WE GOTTA . . . GOTTA
GOTTA . . . GOTTA
GOTTA BE FREE
GOTTA BE FREE
GOTTA BE FREE
YEAH YEAH
WE GOTTA . . . GOTTA
GOTTA . . . GOTTA
GOTTA BE FREE
GOTTA BE FREE
GOTTA BE FREE

2. Harder Than Your Husband 2:28

Jimmy Carl Black—lead vocals
Ike Willis—vocals; rhythm guitar?
Ray White—vocals; rhythm guitar?
Denny Walley—slide guitar
Steve Vai—stunt guitar
Craig "Twister" Steward—harmonica
Tommy Mars—keyboards
Arthur Barrow—bass
David Logeman—drums

We must say good-bye
There's no need for you to cry
It's better that I tell you this tonight
Our affair has been quite heated
You thought I was what you needed
But the time has come, my darlin'
To set things right
I'll be harder than yer husband
To get along with
Harder than yer husband every night
I'll be harder than yer husband
Harder than yer husband
An' I don't want our love affair
To end with a fight

You been like a little angel
How you loved me
An' I appreciate the warmth of your embrace
Well, the world don't need to know
How I adored you
But the time has come, my darlin'
T' tell you this face to face . . .
I'll be harder than yer husband
To get along with
Harder than yer husband every night
I'll be harder than yer husband
Harder than yer husband
An' I don't want our love affair
To end with a fight

So it's adios, adios, my little darlin'
(Adios my little darlin' . . . )
Keep that hankie that I gave you for when you cry
There are things that trouble me
And I'm sure that you must see
That it breaks my heart the same as yours
When we say good-bye

Harder than yer husband
Harder than yer . . . much, much, much
Harder than yer husband
Harder than yer . . . much, much, much
Harder than yer husband
Harder than yer . . . much, much, much
Harder than yer husband
Harder than yer . . .

3. Doreen 4:44

Ray White—lead vocals; rhythm guitar?
FZ—vocals; lead guitar
Ike Willis—vocals; rhythm guitar?
Bob Harris—vocals
Steve Vai—stunt guitar
Tommy Mars—keyboards
Arthur Barrow—bass
David Logeman—drums

Doreen . . . don't make me wait
Til tomorrow
Oh-wo-no-oh-wo . . .
Please darling
Let me love you tonight
An' it'll be awright

You . . . can't make me say
I don't want you
Oh-wo-no-oh-wo . . .
My heart
Is burning with love
And I want you tonight

You know I-I . . .
I really love you
(I love you)
You make me feel good
(You make me feel good)
Please don't deceive me
(No no . . . )
Doreen you know you should
Stay with me always
(Stay!)
We could be lovers
(Always!)
Doreen you're different
(You're different)
Than all the . . . others

Doreen . . . don't make me wait
Til tomorrow
Oh-wo-no-oh-wo . . .
Please darling
Let me love you tonight
An' it'll be awright

You-you-woo . . . can't make me say
I don't want you
Oh-wo-no-oh-wo . . .
My heart
Is burning with love
(Tonight . . . )
And I want you tonight

Say!
To-nye-ay-ay-ay-ay-ay-aiee-ight
(Tonight . . . )
I want you
To-nye-ay-ay-ay-ay-ay-aiee-ight
(Tonight . . . )
Let me love you
To-nye-ay-ay-ay-ay-ay-aiee-ight
(Tonight . . . )
Wanna love you
To-nye-ay-ay-ay-ay-ay-aiee-ight
(Tonight . . . )
Let me love you
To-nye-ay-ay-ay-ay-ay-aiee-ight
(Tonight . . . )
Let me squeeze you, girl
To-nye-ay-ay-ay-ay-ay-aiee-ight
(Tonight . . . etc.)
Oh, I want to love you tonight
Let me love you tonight, yeah
Let me [...] all your toys
I want your lovin' [...], yeah
Doreen, let me, let me
Yeah, why don't you let me in your bed
I love you now, not tomorrow, yeah
Gonna kiss [...], yeah
[...] wanna love you, yeah
Sweet Doreen, sweet Doreen, yeah
Gonna love you, sweet Doreen, 'n don't get funky
[...] all again, I say, yeah
Help me, ah don't get, ah don't get
Ooh, got my heart, take my [...], baby, yeah
Oh, sweet Doreen, let me love you
This sweet girl [...]
Gonna get you, gonna get you, girl
Yeah, sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet Doreen
I want you, I want you, girl
Sweet Doreen, I want you, girl
[...] you're so [...]
Do everything, everything, everything, yeah
Gonna put my arms all around you one more time
Gonna take you, take you tonight, yeah
Sweet Doreen, yeah
Let me love you, love you, love you, love you
Kiss you, love you, please Doreen
Doreen, come on, come on, girl
Tonight, you're gonna make your thing alright
Tonight, tonight, make your thing alright
I'll make everything alright with Doreen
(To-nye-ay-ay-ight . . . )

4. Goblin Girl 4:06

includes an excerpt from Doreen and quotations from Mysterioso Pizzicato (Lampe) and maybe Bad Girls (Summer/Esposito/Hokenson/Sudano)

FZ—vocals; kazoo?
Ike Willis—vocals; kazoo?
Ray White—vocals; kazoo?
Bob Harris—vocals; kazoo?
Jimmy Carl Black—voice
Steve Vai—stunt guitar
Tommy Mars—keyboards; vocals?; kazoo?
Arthur Barrow—bass
David Logeman—drums

Hob-noblin
Wit de goblin
De Goblin Girl
From da mystery world

Hob-noblin
Wit de goblin
She's black 'n green
'Cause it's Halloween

Raggedy black
Is the way she dress
Little green shoes
'N her hair's a mess
On Halloween night
At de costume ball
She's a Goblin Girl
An' she can gobble it all

She's a goblin
A Goblin Girl
She's a goblin
A Goblin Girl
I been hobblin'
'Cause of the Goblin
Goblin Girl . . . Goblin Girl

Some girls like
To dress like a witch
Some girls like to dress like a queen
Best way a girl
Can dress for me
Is in a Goblin Suit
(They look so cute . . . )

When they're a goblin
There ain't a problin
When they're a goblin
I start a-wobblin'
Pink all over
Some is tan
Goblin Girls
From every land
They look good
From any which-a-way
Every Halloween
You can hear me say:
"Goblin Girl, take it away . . . "

Hob-noblin
Wit de goblin
De Goblin Girl
From da mystery world
De Goblin Girl
From da mystery world
(TRICK OR TREAT NOW . . . )
De Goblin Girl
From da mystery world
(TRICK OR TREAT NOW . . . )
De Goblin Girl
From da mystery world
(TRICK OF TREAT NOW . . . etc.)

Doreen . . . don't make me wait
(How 'bout you?)
Til tomorrow

(Poo-ahh!)
Ohhh-ho no . . .
(Got nothin' fer yer honey?)
Please darling
(How 'bout girls?)
Let me gobble tonight
(Poo-ahh! How 'bout you?)
An' it'll be awright (whooo!)
(Poo-ahh! Sweetheart . . . )

You . . .
(How 'bout you?)
Can't make me say
I won't burble-ble-ble-ble
All over you

(Are you sure?)
My snout
(How 'bout you?)
Is burning with love
And it wants you tonight

(Got nothin' fer yer honey? Poo-ahh!)
I hope you're good and tight
(Are you sure?)

(How 'bout you?)
Talkin' 'bout the bad girls
(How 'bout yer . . . )
All the Goblin Girls
(Are you . . . POO-AHH!)
Talkin' 'bout the bad, bad girls
(Sweetheart)
The little Goblin Girls
(Come on, Roy, right here)
Oh, the bad girls
Some are called Doreen
(How 'bout you?)
Some are dressed in green
They're tricking your treat
But they're bad girls
They're very bad girls
(LEPRECHAUN LIGHT)
(Ay!)
They make your face look like you got scales on it
But that's okay . . .
(LEPRECHAUN LIGHT)
(POO-AHH!)
When the green light shines down
(Ay!)
On the black guys in the band
(LEPRECHAUN LIGHT)
(POO-AHH!)
Everybody in the audience
Thinks they're seeing something
That looks like it's made out of
Fish skin
(Ay!)
(LEPRECHAUN LIGHT)
(POO-AHH!)
But Coy leaves the green gels in the truss
Because he knows the guys in the front
Really enjoy looking like they have
Scales all over their body . . .

5. Theme From The 3rd Movement Of Sinister Footwear 3:31

Guitar solo originally from The Palladium, NYC
October 27, 1978

FZ—lead guitar
Steve Vai—stunt guitar
Ed Mann—percussion
David Ocker—clarinet and bass clarinet
Tommy Mars—keyboards
Arthur Barrow—bass
David Logeman—drums

 

6. Society Pages 2:26

FZ—lead vocals
Ray White—lead vocals; rhythm guitar?
Ike Willis—vocals; rhythm guitar?
Denny Walley—slide guitar
Tommy Mars—keyboards
Arthur Barrow—bass
David Logeman—drums

You're the ol' lady from the society pages
From a small town somewhere I used to be
You owned the paper and a bunch of other stuff
That didn't appeal to me

OL' LADY, OL' LADY
OL' LADY, OL' LADY
OL' LADY, OL' LADY
OL' LADY, OL' LADY

The hospital plans (yer brother drew 'em all)
You ran the paper 'n the Charity Ball
Every day on the third or fourth page
There you was . . . you was quite the rage

Somehow, you was all kinda cheap 'n wrong
Just like in a lotta small towns
Where folks like you
Hang around too long
And pass out jobs to yer relatives 'n such
So you all keeps a lot, 'cept but nobody else
Ever gets too much . . . to speak of . . .
So what? What can you say?

So long as the trash gets picked up
So long as the trash gets locked up
Just so the trash don't stack up
Some day you won't be on page three
Or page four anymore

OL' LADY, OL' LADY
OL' LADY, OL' LADY
OL' LADY, OL' LADY
OL' LADY, OL' LADY

By the grace of God you had a son
He's the one and only one
He grew up and by and by
He came to be a Beautiful Guy

7. I'm A Beautiful Guy 1:56

includes a quotation from Johnny's Theme (Paul Anka)

Basic track:
Tower Theater, Upper Darby, PA
April 29, 1980 (late show)

Ike Willis—lead vocals; rhythm guitar?
Ray White—lead vocals; rhythm guitar?
FZ—vocals
Steve Vai—stunt guitar
Tommy Mars—keyboards
Arthur Barrow—bass
David Logeman—drums

I'm a beautiful guy
And you have walked by
And I have gave you the eye
But you pretend to be shy
But I'm a beautiful guy
(You know what I mean? You know what I mean?)
And so I want you to know why, why, why
You make me cry, cry, cry
'Cause you want to try, try, try
Some stupid game on me
They're drinking lighter
They're full of water
I hear them say:
"Let's jog . . . "
They're playing tennis
Their butts are tighter
What could be whiter?
Hey?

Your athletic approach has a lot of appeal
The girl is responding to your little deal
She's modern 'n empty 'n totally vain
But beauty, of course, can feel no pain
No pain
No pain
No pain

8. Beauty Knows No Pain 3:01

Basic track:
Tower Theater, Upper Darby, PA
April 29, 1980 (late show)

FZ—lead vocals
Ray White—lead vocals
Ike Willis—vocals
Bob Harris—vocals
Steve Vai—stunt guitar
Tommy Mars—keyboards
Arthur Barrow—bass
David Logeman—drums
+
Motorhead Sherwood—snorks
Jimmy Carl Black—voice
Moon Zappa—voice

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!"

9. Charlie's Enormous Mouth 3:36

FZ—vocals
Ike Willis—vocals
Ray White—vocals
Bob Harris—vocals
Steve Vai—stunt guitar
Tommy Mars—keyboards
Arthur Barrow—bass
David Logeman—drums

Charlie's enormous mouth, well, it's awright
The girl got a very large mouth, but it's awright
Her teeth look okay
She must be brushin' 'em quite a bit
'Course her mouth is extra large
'N we can only assume as to how
She's been usin' it

Charlie's enormous mouth, well, it's awright
The girl got a very large mouth, but it's awright
She got lips all around the hole
Where she puts her food in
They call it THE MOUTH
They call it THE MOUTH
They call it THE MOUTH
Which is as good a place as any for a tongue
To include in, that's why
They call it THE MOUTH
They call it THE MOUTH
They call it THE MOUTH

La la la la la la la
La la la la la la la

(Kinda young
Kinda wow . . . )

Charlie's enormous nose, well, it's all white
The girl got a very large nose but it's all white
She once was okay
But she's been blowin' it quite a bit
'Course her friends are extra large
'N we can only assume as to how
She's been choosin' it

Charlie's enormous nose, well, it's all white
The girl got a very large nose, but it's all white
She got stuff all around the hole
Where she puts her spoon in
They call it THE NOSE
They call it THE NOSE
They call it THE NOSE
And when it finally rots away I guess you'd
Prob'ly drive a truck in . . . they used to
Call it THE NOSE
They called it THE NOSE
They called it THE NOSE

La la la la la la la
La la la la la la la

(Kinda young
Kinda dead . . . )

Charlie's disgusting brain, well, it's all black
The girl got a very dead brain, it won't come back
She used to convey
But then she took an extra hit
'Course her friends are extra dumb
'N they were terribly excited while they
Watched her doin' it

Charlie's disgusting brain, well it's all black
The girl got a very dead brain, it won't come back
She got dirt all around the hole
Where they dumped her box in
They call it THE GRAVE
They call it THE GRAVE
They call it THE GRAVE
Which is as good a place as any for a
Chump to repose in . . . that's why they
Call it THE GRAVE
They call it THE GRAVE
They call it THE GRAVE . . .

10. Any Downers? 2:08

Ike Willis—lead vocals
FZ—vocals; lead guitar
Ray White—vocals
Bob Harris—vocals
Steve Vai—stunt guitar
Tommy Mars—keyboards
Arthur Barrow—bass
David Logeman—drums

And all around
At the side of the grave
Stood Charlie's friends
Who could not save
This stupid girl
From the way she behaved
But among the mourners
And the frowners
A cry were heard . . . (aaaargh!)

ANY DOWNERS? (Oh, no!)
ANY DOWNERS? (Oh, no!)
ANY DOWNERS? (Oh, no!)
ANY DOWNERS? (Oh, no!)

No I ain't got any more
No I ain't got any more
No I ain't got any more
No I ain't got any more

Your downers is gone
They was all you could get
To ease your mind
And your deep regret
Over Charlie's mouth
So enormous 'n wet
Now all you got
Is your T.V. set

You turn it on
You watch and dream
A dream of love
On your tiny screeen
But what do you see
As you lay in bed?
It's a bald kinda girl
With a pointed head
Oh no . . .

11. Conehead 4:18

FZ—lead vocals; lead guitar
Ike Willis—vocals; rhythm guitar?
Ray White—vocals; rhythm guitar?
Bob Harris—vocals
Steve Vai—stunt guitar
Tommy Mars—keyboards
Arthur Barrow—bass
David Logeman—drums

Conehead . . . she ain't really dumb
She's just a
Conehead . . . 'tater chip crumbs
All over her face
Is there any more beer
Stashed away at her place? She's just a
Conehead . . . she can't help herself
"She's a Conehead kind of a girl . . . "
(Ha ha ha!)

Pitch her a ring
That is the thing
That's getting her hot-uh
A hoop or a ring
Goin' over the top of her Conehead
"She is from a small town in France
'N she's a Conehead kind of a girl, kind of guy"

That's what she gives me is-uh Oooh!
Conehead
When she's on her knees
The point is so high
(High!)
I keep sayin' please
Keep it out of my eye, 'cause she's a
Conehead
(She's a Conehead kind of a girl, kind of a guy, kind of a girl-thing . . . )

Saturday Night
You're home alone
The TV lights up
As her dad comes home
He's been workin' all day
At the drivin' school
In a stupid-lookin' hat
That he uses to fool
The people of Earth
Who might get back
If they knew he was really
From Remulak, where the
Conehead . . . people are from, where the
Conehead . . . people go to, when the
Conehead . . . people are done with their
Conehead . . . things that are fun

Connie the Cone
Is dressed real neat
Like a teen-age girl
From down the street

But Mom 'n Dad
They don't approve
Carbohydrates
Is all they groove
Connie's eye
Has a tiny tear
But they rinse it away
With a case of beer

A bag of chips
'N fiberglass
Her diet's a riot
I can't keep quiet
I'd love to try it
But I think I'll pass
To eat that kind stuff they pack
(Yes, they're packin' it!)
You'd hafta be from Remulak, where the
Conehead . . . people are from, where the
Conehead . . . people go to, when the
Conehead . . . people are done with the
Conehead . . . things that are fun, where the
Conehead . . . people are from, where the
Conehead . . . people go to, when the
Conehead . . . people are done, with the
Conehead . . . things that are fun, where the
Conehead . . . people are from, where the
Conehead . . . people go to, when the
Conehead . . . people are done with the
Conehead . . . things that are fun, where the
Conehead . . . people are from, where the
Conehead . . . people go to, when the
Conehead . . . people are done with the
Conehead . . .

12. You Are What You Is 4:23

FZ—lead vocals
Ray White—lead vocals; rhythm guitar?
Ike Willis—vocals; rhythm guitar?
Bob Harris—vocals
Steve Vai—stunt guitar
Tommy Mars—keyboards
Arthur Barrow—bass
David Logeman—drums

Do you know what you are?
You are what you is
You is what you am
(A cow don't make ham . . . )
You ain't what you're not
So see what you got
You are what you is
An' that's all it 'tis

A foolish young man
From a middle class fam'ly
Started singin' the blues
'Cause he thought it was manly
Now he talks like the Kingfish
("Saffiiiee!")
From Amos 'n Andy
("Holy mack'l dere . . . Holy mack'l dere!")
He tells you that chitlins . . .
(Chitlins!)
Well, they taste just like candy
He thinks that he's got
De whole thang down
From the Nivea Lotion
To de Royal Crown

Do you know what you are?
You are what you is
You is what you am
(A cow don't make ham . . . )
You ain't what you're not
So see what you got
You are what you is
An' that's all it 'tis

A foolish young man
Of the Negro Persuasion
Devoted his life
To become a caucasian
He stopped eating pork
He stopped eating greens
He traded his dashiki
("Uhuru!")

For some Jordache Jeans
He learned to play golf
An' he got a good score
Now he says to himself
"I AIN'T NO NIGGER NO MORE . . . HEY! HEY! HEY!"
"I don't understand you . . . "
BWANA MA-COO-BAH
"Would you please speak more clearly . . . "
MERCEDES BAINNNNNNNZ

Who is who
(I don't know . . . )
'N what is what
(Somethin' I just don't know . . . )
'N why is this
(Tell me now . . . )
Appropriot
(That's a funny pronunciation if'n ever I heard one . . . )
If you don't like
(Where'd you get that word?)
What you has got
(Appropriot? The word is not . . . )
Drop it in the dirt
(Drop it yeah . . . )
'N let it rot
(I can smell it now . . . )
Someone else
(Here de come, here de come . . . )
Will surely come
(I told you they was comin')
'N pick it up
(That's right!)
'Cause he wants some
(An' he wants it for free . . . )
And when one day
(There will come a day . . . )
You wonder who
(I wonder too . . . )
You used to was
(Who I was anyway . . . )
'N what you do
(I used to work at the post office . . . )
You'll scratch your head
(But I don't wanna un-do my doo . . . )
'N look around
(Just to see what's goin' on . . . )
But what you lost
(Can't seem to find it . . . )
Will not be found
(A Mercedes Benz . . . )

Do you know what you are?
(I know . . . )
You are what you is
(I'm the kinda guy . . . )
You is what you am
(That ought to be drivin' . . . )
A cow don't make a ham
(A four-fifty SLC . . . )
You ain't what you're not
(A big ol' red one . . . )
So see what you got
(With some golf clubs stickin' out de trunk . . . )
You are what you is
(I'm gwine down to de links on Saturday mornin' . . . )
An' that's all it is
(Gimme a five-dollar bill . . . )
YOU ARE WHAT YOU IS
(And an overcoat too . . . )
AND THAT'S ALL IT IS
(Where's my waitress? Yeah . . . )
YOU ARE WHAT YOU IS
(Robbie, take me to Greek Town . . . )
AN THAT'S ALL IT IS
(I'm harder than yer husband; harder than yer husband . . . )
YOU ARE WHAT YOU IS
(I'm goin' down to White Street, to the Mudd Club y'all . . . )
AN THAT'S ALL IT IS
(I'm goin' down 'n work the wall 'n work the floor . . . )
YOU ARE WHAT YOU IS
('N work the pipe 'n work the wall . . . )

AN THAT'S ALL IT IS
(Some more . . . )

13. Mudd Club 3:11

FZ—lead vocals
Ray White—lead vocals; rhythm guitar?
Ike Willis—vocals; rhythm guitar?
Moon Zappa—voice?
Motorhead Sherwood—tenor sax, snorks
Tommy Mars—keyboards
Arthur Barrow—bass
David Logeman—drums

And here we are, at the Mudd Club, y'all . . .
I hope you enjoy yourself, 'cause the show's about
To begin . . .

Hey, they're really dancin'
They're on auto-destruct
On the floor
On the pipe
Bouncin' off-a the wall

Hey, the people here are really
Tearin' it up
On the side
In the back
By the front of the stage

They ain't really crazy
You can take it from me
I should know
'Cause I go
Every time I'm in town

If you never tried it
Lemme straighten you out
It's the best kinda place
To unfasten yerself

MUDD CLUB
All the way downtown
MUDD CLUB
They ain't messin' around
MUDD CLUB
Just turn to the left 'n look around
Because it's there somewhere
If you ain't found it, better
Hurry up
The folks down there's on auto-destruct
And so can you be too
(The fact of the matter,
it's made for you . . . )

Try it on a Saturday 'bout four o'clock in the mornin'
Or even a Monday at midnight
When there's just a few of those
Fabulous Poodles
Doin' the Peppermint Twist for real
In a black sack dress with nine inch heels
And then a guy with a blue mohawk comes in
In Serious Leather . . .
(And all the rest of whom for which
To whensonever of partially indeterminate
Bio-chemical degradation
Seek the path to the sudsy yellow nozzle
Of their foaming nocturnal
Parametric digital whole-wheat inter-faith
Geo-thermal terpsichorean ejectamenta)
In Serious Leather . . .
In Serious Chains
Then they work the wall
They work the pipe
They work the floor
'N they work the wall some more
In Serious Leather
Serious Chains
Serious Clothing

From when they come downtown
From the ruins of Studio '54
To twist 'n frugg
In an arrogant gesture
To the best of what the 20th Century has to offer

Al Malkin's down there right now,
Looking for a virgin with nice breath . . .
(Why, maybe it's you . . .
And you don't even know it!)

Hey, they're really dancin'
They're on auto-destruct
On the floor
On the pipe
Bouncin' off-a the wall

Hey, the people here are really
Tearin' it up
On the side
In the back
By the front of the stage

They ain't really crazy
You can take it from me
I should know
'Cause I go
Every time I'm in town

If you never tried it
Lemme straighten you out
It's the best kinda place
To unfasten yerself

14. The Meek Shall Inherit Nothing 3:10

FZ—vocals
Ike Willis—vocals; rhythm guitar?
Ray White—vocals; rhythm guitar?
Jimmy Carl Black—voice
Denny Walley—slide guitar
Tommy Mars—keyboards
Arthur Barrow—bass
David Logeman—drums

While you WORK THE WALL
WORK THE FLOOR
WORK THE PIPE
IN SERIOUS PAIN . . .

Some take the bible
For what it's worth
When it says that the meek
Shall inherit the Earth
Well, I heard that some sheik
Has bought New Jersey last week
'N you suckers ain't gettin' nothin'

Is Hare Rama really wrong
If you wander around
With a napkin on
With a bell on a stick
An' your hair is all gone . . .
(The geek shall inherit nothin')

You say yer life's a bum deal
'N yer up against the wall . . .
Well, people, you ain't even got no kinda
Deal at all
'Cause what they do
In Washington
They just takes care of NUMBER ONE
An' NUMBER ONE ain't YOU
You ain't even NUMBER TWO

Those Jesus Freaks
Well, they're friendly but
The shit they believe
Has got their minds all shut
An' they don't even care
When the church takes a cut
Ain't it bleak when you got so much nothin'
(So whaddya do? Hey!)
Eat that pork
Eat that ham
Laugh till ya choke
On Billy Graham
Moses, Aaron 'n Abraham . . .
They're all a waste of time
'N it's your ass that's on the line
(IT'S YOUR ASS THAT'S ON THE LINE)

Do what you wanna
Do what you will
Just don't mess up
Your neighbor's thrill
'N when you pay the bill
Kindly leave a little tip
And help the next poor sucker
On his one way trip . . .
SOME TAKE THE BIBLE . . .
(Aw gimme a half a dozen for the hotel room!)

15. Dumb All Over 4:03

FZ—lead vocals; lead guitar
Ike Willis—vocals; rhythm guitar?
Ray White—vocals; rhythm guitar?
Jimmy Carl Black—voice
Tommy Mars—keyboards
Arthur Barrow—bass
David Logeman—drums

Ay!

Hotel room mo-mo-mo-mom mo-mo-mom
Hotel room mo-mo-mo-mom mo-mo-mom
Ay-ay-ay-ay!

Whoever we are
Wherever we're from
We shoulda noticed by now
Our behavior is dumb
And if our chances
Expect to improve
It's gonna take a lot more
Than tryin' to remove
The other race
Or the other whatever
From the face
Of the planet altogether

They call it THE EARTH
Which is a dumb kinda name
But they named it right
'Cause we behave the same . . .
We are dumb all over
Dumb all over,
Yes we are
Dumb all over,
Near 'n far
Dumb all over,
Black 'n white
People, we is not wrapped tight

Nurds on the left
Nurds on the right
Religious fanatics
On the air every night
Sayin' the Bible
Tells the story
'N makes the details
Sound real gory
'Bout what to do
If the geeks over there
Don't believe in the book
We got over here

You can't run a race
Without no feet
'N pretty soon
There won't be no street
For dummies to jog on
Or doggies to dog on
Religious fanatics
Can make it be all gone
(I mean it won't blow up
'N disappear
It'll just look ugly
For a thousand years . . . )

You can't run a country
By a book of religion
Not by a heap
Or a lump or a smidgeon
Of foolish rules
Of ancient date
Designed to make
You all feel great
While you fold, spindle
And mutilate
Those unbelievers
From a neighboring state

TO ARMS! TO ARMS!
Hooray! That's great
Two legs ain't bad
Unless there's a crate
They ship the parts
To mama in
For souvenirs: two ears (Get Down!)
Not his, not hers (but what the hey?)
The Good Book says:
"It gotta be that way!"
But their book says:
"REVENGE THE CRUSADES . . .
With whips 'n chains
'N hand grenades . . . "

TWO ARMS? TWO ARMS?
Have another and another
Our God says:
"There ain't no other!"
Our God says
"It's all okay!"
Our God says
"This is the way!"

It says in the book:
"Burn 'n destroy . . .
'N repent, 'n redeem
'N revenge, 'n deploy
'N rumble thee forth
To the land of the unbelieving scum on the other side
'Cause they don't go for what's in the book
'N that makes 'em BAD
So verily we must choppeth them up
And stompeth them down
Or rent a nice French bomb
To poof them out of existance
While leaving their real estate just where we need it
To use again
For temples in which to praise

OUR GOD
("Cause he can really take care of business!")

And when his humble TV servant
With humble white hair
And humble glasses
And a nice brown suit
And maybe a blonde wife who takes phone calls
Tells us our God says
It's okay to do this stuff
Then we gotta do it,
'Cause if we don't do it,
We ain't gwine up to hebbin!
(Depending on which book you're using at the time . . . Can't use theirs . . . it don't work . . . it's all lies . . . Gotta use mine . . . )
Ain't that right?
That's what they say
Every night . . .
Every day . . .
Hey, we can't really be dumb
If we're just following God's Orders
Hey, Let's get serious . . .
God knows what he's doin' . . .
He wrote this book here
An' the book says:
"He made us all to be just like Him," so . . .
If we're dumb . . .
Then God is dumb . . .
(An' maybe even a little ugly on the side)

DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE

16. Heavenly Bank Account 3:44

FZ—vocals; lead guitar
Ike Willis—vocals; rhythm guitar?
Ray White—vocals; rhythm guitar?
Bob Harris—vocals?
Steve Vai—stunt guitar
Tommy Mars—keyboards
Arthur Barrow—bass
David Logeman—drums

DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE

And if these words you do not heed
Your pocketbook just kinda might recede
When some man comes along and claims a godly need
He will clean you out right through your tweed

That's right, you asked for it, remember there is a big difference between kneeling down and bending over . . .

He's got twenty million dollars
In his Heavenly Bank Account . . .
All from those chumps who was
Born again
Oh yeah, oh yeah

He's got seven limousines
And a private plane . . .
All for the use of his
Special Friends
Oh yeah, oh yeah

He's got thousand-dollar suits
And a Wembley Tie . . .
Girls love to stroke it
While he's on the phone
Oh yeah, oh yeah

At the House of Representatives
He's a groovy guy . . .
When he Gives Thanks
He is not alone . . .

He is dealin'
He is really dealin'
IRS can't determine
Where The Hook is

It is easy with the Bible
To pretend that
You're in Show Biz
(And a-one, and a-two, and a . . . )

They won't get him
They will never get him
For the naughty stuff
That he did

It is best in cases like this
To pretend that
You are stupid
(DOH . . . )

He's got Presidential Help
All along the way
He says the grace
While the lawyers chew
Oh yeah
They sure do

And the Governors agree to say:
"He's a lovely man!"
He makes it easier for
Them to screw
All of you . . .
Yes, that's true!

'Cause he helps put The Fear of God
In the Common Man
Snatchin' up money
Everywhere he can
Oh yeah
Oh yeah

He's got twenty million dollars
In his Heavenly Bank Account
You ain't got nothin', people
You ain't got nothin', people
You ain't got nothin', people
Thank the man . . . oh yeah

As we end another broadcast day
Let me say
That you ain't got nothin'
And he's got it all
And your miserable self
Is against the wall
The only thing you have not tried
It's the sport of chumps
That's SUICIDE

17. Suicide Chump 2:49

FZ—lead vocals
Ike Willis—vocals; rhythm guitar?
Ray White—vocals; rhythm guitar?
Bob Harris—vocals?
Denny Walley—slide guitar; vocals?
Tommy Mars—keyboards
Arthur Barrow—bass
David Logeman—drums

(Well, hoop hoop) You say there ain't no use in livin'
(Well, hoop hoop) It's all a waste of time
(Well, hoop hoop) 'N you wanna throw your life away, well
(Well, go on, do it!) People that's just fine
(Hoop hoop) Go ahead on 'n get it over with then
(Well, hoop hoop) Find you a bridge 'n take a jump
(Well, hoop hoop, well, hoop hoop)
(Well . . . ) Just make sure you do it right the first time
(Hoop!) 'Cause nothin's worse than a Suicide Chump
(Oo-woo-woo-woo-woo, oh, yeah!)

(Hoop hoop) You say there ain't no light a-shinin'
(Well, hoop hoop) Through the bushes up ahead
(Well, hoop hoop) 'N we're all gonna be so sorry
(Well, he sure is dead now) When we find out you are dead
(Hoop hoop) Go head on 'n get it over with then
(Well, hoop hoop) Find you a bridge 'n take a jump
(Well, hoop hoop, well, hoop hoop)
(Well . . . ) Just make sure you do it right the first time
(Hoop!) 'Cause nothin's worse than a Suicide Chump
(Oo-woo-woo-woo-woo, oh, yeah!)

(Oooh) Now maybe you're scared of jumpin'
(Well, oooh) 'N poison makes you sick
(Well, oooh) 'N you want a little attention
(Well, oooh) 'N you need it pretty quick
(Well, oooh) Don't wanna mess your face up
(Well, oooh) Or we won't know if it's you
(Well, oooh) Aw, there's just so much to worry about
(Well, oo-woo-woo-wooh) Now what you gonna do?
(Hoop hoop) Go ahead on 'n get it over with then
(Well, hoop hoop) Find you a bridge 'n take a jump
(Well, hoop hoop, well, hoop hoop)
(Well . . . ) Just make sure you do it right the first time
(Hoop!) 'Cause nothin's worse than a Suicide Chump
(Oo-woo-woo-woo-woo, oh, yeah!)

(Well, hoop hoop) Now maybe you're scared of jumpin'
(Well, hoop hoop) 'N poison makes you sick
(Well, hoop hoop) 'N you want a little attention
(Well, hoop hoop) 'N you need it pretty quick
(Well, hoop hoop) Don't wanna mess your face up
(Well, hoop hoop) Or we won't know if it's you
(Well, hoop hoop) Aw, there's just so much to worry about
(Well, hoop hoop) Now what you gonna do?

(Well, hoop hoop) Go head on 'n get it over with then
(Well, hoop hoop) Go head on 'n get it over with then
(Well, hoop hoop) Go head on 'n get it over with then
(Well, hoop hoop) Go head on 'n get it over with then
(Well, hoop hoop) Go head on 'n get it over with then
(Well, hoop hoop) Go head on 'n get it over with then
(Well, hoop hoop) Go head on 'n get it over with then
(Well . . . )

You're on the bridge;
Scared to leap,
But a girl walks over
To take a peep . . .
She says: "DON'T DO IT!"
But wouldn't you know . . .
The girl got a head
Like a buffalo
With a little red hair
All over the top
An' her breath would make the
Traffic stop
She says "I LOVE YOU . . .
BUT FIRST, LET'S EAT!"

And all you can say as you run down the street is . . .

18. Jumbo Go Away 3:43

includes Number 6

FZ—vocals
Ike Willis—vocals; rhythm guitar?
Ray White—vocals; rhythm guitar?
Denny Walley—lead vocals ("It seems I can't explain")
Moon Zappa—voice
Steve Vai—stunt guitar
Tommy Mars—keyboards
Arthur Barrow—bass
David Logeman—drums

Jumbo, go away
Jumbo, go away
Jumbo, go away
Jumbo leave me alone
Get your head off my bone
I wanna go home
(I'm hungry . . . )

Jumbo lighten up
Jumbo lighten up
Jumbo lighten up
Jumbo give me a break
Lighten up on my snake
That's all I can take
(Feed me!)

It seems I can't explain
The way I feel about you
(Robbie, take me to Greek Town!)
You just don't understand
You're from Kalamazoo . . .
(Blow!)

You got to realize
Our little romance deal
Will not materialize
Into a thing that you'd call REAL
(I think I have worms . . . )

Jumbo gotta go
Jumbo gotta go
Jumbo gotta go
Jumbo better get back
Or your eye will get black
When I give you a smack
(No, Denny, don't hit me!)

Jumbo don't you cry
(Boo-hoo-hoo . . . )
Jumbo don't you cry
Jumbo don't you cry
Jumbo this is good-bye
I ain't gonna lie
So wash up your pie

Wash up your pie
(There are three things that smell like fish!)
(Really, what are they?)

Wash up your pie
(One of them is fish . . . )
(Oh!)

Wash up your pie
(The other two . . . )
(What d'you mean the other two?)

Wash up your pie
(Are growing on you . . . )

19. If Only She Woulda 3:47

Basic track:
Tower Theater, Upper Darby, PA
April 29, 1980

FZ—lead vocals; lead guitar
Ike Willis—vocals; rhythm guitar?
Ray White—vocals; rhythm guitar?
Bob Harris—vocals?
Ahmet Zappa—voice
Moon Zappa—voice
Tommy Mars—keyboards
Arthur Barrow—Minimoog; organ solo
David Logeman—drums

You took a chance
(You took a chance)
On Jumbo's love
(On Jumbo's love)
If only she woulda
(If only she woulda)
Gave you the shove
(Gave you the shove)
That might have sent you
(That might have sent you)
On your way
(On your way)
But it's too late now,
(It's too late now)
You got a letter today . . .
(You got a letter today)
Well, life and love
Has left you shafted
And on top of that
You just got drafted
You just got drafted
(That's right!)
You just got drafted
(Even your sister!)
You just got drafted
(Hey, let's jam!)

You took a chance
(You took a chance)
On Jumbo's love
(On Jumbo's love)
If only she woulda
(If only she woulda)
Gave you the shove
(Gave you the shove)
That might have sent you
(That might have sent you)
On your way
(On your way)
But it's too late now
(It's too late now)
You got a letter today . . .
(You got a letter today)
Well, life and love
Has left you shafted
And of on top of that, hey-hey
You just got drafted
(To your left!) (Your right!)
You just got drafted
(Your left!) (Right, man!) (To your left!) (Your right!)
You just got drafted
(To your left!) (Right, man!) (To your left!) (Your right!)
You just got . . .

20. Drafted Again 3:07

FZ—lead vocals
Ahmet Zappa—lead vocals
Moon Zappa—lead vocals
Jimmy Carl Black—voice
Mark Pinske—voice
Motorhead Sherwood—snorks
Ike Willis—vocals; rhythm guitar?
Ray White—vocals; rhythm guitar?
Bob Harris—vocals; trumpet
Denny Walley—vocals
Steve Vai—stunt guitar
Tommy Mars—keyboards
Arthur Barrow—bass
David Logeman—drums

Special delivery . . . registered mail . . .
OH NO
You're gonna hafta sign fer this, buddy
OH NO
C'mon out heah, ya little sumbitch, I know you're in there
OH NO
Goddam little communist . . .
(weep, weep, weep)

I don't wanna get drafted
I don't wanna go
I don't wanna get drafted
PHOOEY!

I don't wanna get drafted
I don't wanna go
I don't wanna get drafted
NO-OH-WOH-OH-WOH . . .

Roller skates 'n disco
It's a lot of fun
I'm too young 'n stupid
To operate a gun

LaCelia Jackson! Come on down!
I DON'T WANNA GET DRAFTED
Nancy Butterworth! Come on down!
I DON'T WANNA GET DRAFTED
You're the next contestants on SOOOOO WHAT!

I DON'T WANNA GET DRAFTED
And, but, also . . .
A new car!

I DON'T WANNA GET DRAFTED
But that's not all . . .

My-y-y sister don't wanna get drafted
She don't wanna go
My sister don't wanna get drafted
My-y-y sister don't wanna get drafted
She don't wanna go
My sister don't wanna get drafted
NO-OH-WOH-OH-WOH

Wars are really ugly
They're dirty and they're cold
I don't want nobody
To shoot me in the fox hole . . . fox hole

I don't wanna get drafted
I don't wanna get drafted
I don't wanna get drafted
I don't wanna get drafted

Wars are really ugly
They're dirty and they're cold
I don't want nobody
To shoot me in the fox hole . . . fox hole

Aiieeeeeeeee . . . shot in the fox hole
Aiieeeeeeeee . . . shot in the fox hole
Aiieeeeeeeee . . . shot in the fox hole
Aiieeeeeeeee . . . shot in the fox hole

"Leave my nose alone, please . . . "

 

All compositions by Frank Zappa except as noted
Site maintained by Román García Albertos
http://globalia.net/donlope/fz/
Lyrics from the album booklet
Corrections and additions by Román, John W. Busher, Abe Scott, Thrust Pygmy and Charles Ulrich
The parts on the original vinyl and not on the original CD re-mix are printed this way
This page updated: 2014-03-18