Theodore Bikel:
Ladies 'n gentlemen
Chorus:
Two Hundred Motels
Theodore Bikel:
Two Hundred Motels
Life on the road!
Theodore Bikel:
Ladies 'n gentlemen!
And here he is!
Chorus:
Who?
Theodore Bikel:
Larry the Dwarf!
Chorus:
Yay!
Theodore Bikel:
Larry likes to dress up funny. Tonight he's dressed up like Frank Zappa.
Let's ask him what's the deal.
Say!
Ow! Look out!
Ow! Look out!
Ow! Look out!
How long?
How long?
Till that mystery roach be arrivin' soon
Ya-ooo, ya-ooo, ya-ooo, ya-ooo
Theat mystery roach be approachin'
Theat mystery roach be approachin' me
La la la la la la la, oof!
The mystery roach be approachin'
The mystery roach be approachin' me
How long?
How long?
Till that mystery roach been gone
Ya-ooo-ooo-oo-ooo
Ya-ooo-ooo-oo-ooo Ya-ooo Ya-ooo
Theat mystery roach be approachin'
Theat mystery roach be approachin' me
La la la la la la la, oof!
Theat mystery roach be approachin'
Theat mystery roach be approachin' me
La la la la la la la, oof!
Mystery mystery mystery mystery
Mystery mystery mystery mystery, roach!
Mystery mystery mystery mystery
Mystery mystery mystery mystery, roach!
Mystery mystery mystery mystery
Mystery mystery mystery mystery, roach!
Mystery mystery mystery mystery
Mystery mystery mystery mystery, roach!
. . . once in a minute . . . Hi, all you people out there watching the movie!
Mystery mystery mystery mystery
Mystery mystery mystery roach!
Mystery mystery mystery mystery
Mystery mystery mystery roach!
Mystery mystery mystery mystery
Mystery mystery mystery roach!
Mystery mystery mystery mystery
Mystery mystery mystery roach!
Mystery mystery mystery mystery
Mystery mystery mystery roach!
Mystery mystery mystery mystery
Mystery mystery mystery roach!
Mystery mystery mystery mystery
Mystery mystery mystery roach!
Mystery mystery mystery mystery
Mystery mystery mystery roach!
Howard:
Ah! Hold it! Wait a minute!
Stop that music!
Please . . .
Hold it!
Wait a minute!
Ah . . .
What are we SINGING about?
A mystery roach?
We must be . . . FLIPPING OUT!
This town
This town
This town we're in is just a
Sealed tuna sandwich with the wrapper glued
We get a few in every tour
I think we've played this one before
This town
This town
Is a sealed tuna samwich
Sealed tuna samwich
With the wrapper glued
It's by baloney on the rack
It goes for forty cents a whack
It's just a place for us to play
To help us pay
The cost of the tickets back to L.A.
The cost of the tickets back to L.A.
The cost of the tickets back to L.A.
All the people in the samwich town
Think the place is great!
What if part of it's crumblin' down?
Most of them prob'ly won't be 'round
They'll either be dead
Or moved to San Francisco
Where everybody thinks they're heavy business
But it's just a tuna sandwich
From another catering service
This town
This town
This town we're in is just a
Sealed tuna sandwich with the wrapper glued
We get a few in every tour
They're always such a fucking bore
I can't wait till we blow this town and work a place with some local hot action!
This town
This town
Is a sealed tuna samwich
Sealed tuna samwich
With the wrapper glued
(With the wrapper glued)
It's by baloney on the rack
(Rant-tant-tant
Tant-tant-tant
Tant-tant-tant)
It goes for forty cents a whack
It's just a rancid little snack
In a plastic pack
From a matron in La Habra with a blown-out crack
Who dies to suck the fringe off of Jimmy Carl Black!
My name is Burtram
I am a redneck
All my friends,
They call me 'Burt'
(Hi, Burt!)
All my family,
From down in Texas
Make their livin'
Diggin' dirt
Come out here to Californy,
Just to find me
Some pretty girls
The Ones I seen
Gets me so horny;
Ruby lips,
'N teeth like pearls!
Wanna love 'em all!
Wanna love 'em dearly!
Wanna pretty girl—
I'll even pay!
I'll buy 'em furs!
I'll buy 'em jewelry!
I know they like me;
Here's what I say:
I'm lonesome Cowboy Burt!
(Speakin' atcha!)
Come smell my fringe-y shirt!
(Reekin' atcha!)
My cowboy pants,
My cowboy dance,
My bold advance,
On this here waitress . . .
Yodel-oh-oo-pee-hey
Yodel-oh-oo-pee!
(I'm He's lonesome Cowboy Burt
Don'tcha get myhis feelings hurt)
Come on in this place,
'N I'll buy you a taste,
'N You can sit on my face—
Where's my waitress?
Burtram, Burtram redneck
Burtram, Burtram redneck
I'm an awful nice guy!
I Sweat all day in the sun!
I'm a Roofer by trade,
Quite a bundle I've made,
I'm unionized roofin' old
Son-of-a-gun!
(He's a unionized roofin' old
Son-of-a-gun!)
When I get off, I get plastered
I Drink till I fall onna floor,
Then I Find me some Communist bastard,
'N stomp on his face till he don't
Move no more!
(He stomps on his face till he don't
Move no more!)
I fuss, an' I cuss an' I keep on drinkin',
Till my eyes puff up an' turn red!
I drool on m'shirt,
I see if he's hurt,
Then I Kick him again in the head, yes!
Kick him again in the head, boys!
Kick him again in the head, now!
KICK HIM AGAIN IN THE HEAD!
Lonesome Cowboy Burt!
(Speakin' atcha!)
Come smell my fringe-y shirt!
(Reekin' atcha!)
My cowboy pants,
My cowboy dance,
My bold advance,
On this here waitress . . .
Yodel-oh-oo-pee-yeh
Yodel-oh-oo-pee!
(I'M HE'S LONESOME COWBOY BURT,
A-don'tcha get my his feelin's hurt)
Yeah . . . but come on in this place,
An' I'll buy you a taste,
'N you can sit on my face—
Where's my waitress?
OPAL, YOU HOT LITTLE BITCH!
Went on the road
For a month touring
What a drag
Y' gotta go
Even if y'd rather be at home
Flaked out
In Hollywood
Drove to Inglewood and then we dumped
All our shit into the plane at five-o-three
What's it gonna be?
Chicken, beef or turkey?
La la la la
Would you like a snack?
JCB:
Hey, who are these dudes?
Are you a boy?
Or a girl?
Ha ha ha ha ha
Ha ha
Chorus:
Or a turkey?
Ha ha ha ha ha
Ha ha
JCB:
What the fuck was that?
I Wonder if that son of a bitch can play somethin' I might even like . . .
Chorus:
Ha ha ha ha
Ha ha ha ha
Ha ha
JCB:
Hey twerp . . . play me a tune somethin' I can enjoy!
Centerville
A real nice place to raise your kids up
Centerville
It's really neat!
Churches!
Churches!
And liquor stores!
She painted up her face
She sat before her the mirror
She painted up her face
She drew the mirror nearer
Practisissing, Practiss, Practicing!
The STARE!
The STARE!
(The 'secret stare' she would use
If a worthy-looking victim should appear)
Practisissing, Practiss, Practicing!
(Ah-hoo-ah-hoo-wah-hoo-wahhhh)
Practisissing, Practiss, Practicing!
The clock upon the wall
Has struck the midnight hour!
She finishes her call;
Her girlfriend's in the shower
Practisissing, Practiss, Practicing!
Half a dozen provocative squats!
Out of the shower, she squeezes her spots;
Brushes her teeth;
Shoots a deodorant spray up her twat . . .
(It's getting her, getting her
Hot—Oh-woh-woh-woh-woh-woh)
She's just twenty-four
And she can't get off,
A sad but typical case, yeah
Last dude to do her
Got in and got soft;
She blew it,
And laughed in his face, yeah!
Face, yeah!
Yeah
She chooses all the clothes
She'll wear tonight to dance in!
(She dances, she prances, she dances, she prances
She prances, she prances, she . . . )
The places that she goes
Are filled with guys from groups,
(Yeah-yeah-yeah)
Waiting for a chance to break her pants in
PROVOCATIVE SQUATS!
(gum-me-on-m'lung-a)
PROVOCATIVE SQUATS!
(gum-me-on-m'lung-a)
PROVOCATIVE SQUATS!
(gum-me-on-m'lung-a)
PROVOCATIVE SQUATS!
(gum-me-on-m'lung-a)
Well, at least there's sort of a choice there;
Twenty or thirty at times there have been—
Somewhat desirable boys there—
Dressed really spiffy, with long hair—
Waiting for girls they can shove it right in
Well, at least there's sort of a choice there;
Twenty or thirty at times there have been—
Somewhat desirable boys there—
Dressed really spiffy, with long hair—
Waiting for girls they can shove it right in
Chorus:
Two Hundred Motels
Two Hundred Motels
Tan-toon ran-tan na-na-han-nnnn
Two Hundred Motels
Jeff:
I'm stealing the towels
Jeff:
Ha-nin-noon-toon han-toon-han
Good Conscience:
No, Jeff!
Jeff:
Han-toon-ran-toon-han-toon-fram-in
Han-toon-ran-toon-han-toon-fram-in
Good Conscience:
No no no!
Jeff:
Man! This stuff is great! It's just as if Donovan himself had appeared on my very own TV . . . with words of peace, love and eternal cosmic wisdom! Leading me . . . guiding me on paths of everlasting pseudo-karmic negligence in the very midst of my drug-induced . . . nocturnal emission.
Good Conscience:
. . . For I am your good conscience, Jeff, I know all . . . I see all . . . I am a cosmic love pulse matrix becoming a technicolor inter-positive.
Jeff:
Heh? . . . Where'd you buy that incense? It's hip.
Good Conscience:
It's the same and mysterious exotic oriental fragrance as what The Beatles get off on.
Jeff:
I thought I recognized it. Mmmm, what is that? Musk?
Good Conscience:
Jeff, I know what's good for you.
Jeff:
Right. You're heavy . . .
Good Conscience:
Yes, Jeff. I am your guiding light . . . listen to me . . . Don't rip off the towels, Jeff!
Bad Conscience:
Piss off, you little nitwit.
Jeff:
Hey man . . . what's the deal?
Good Conscience:
Don't listen to him, Jeff. He's no good . . . He'll make you do bad things!
Jeff:
You mean . . . he'll make me sin?
Good Conscience:
Yes, Jeff . . . sin.
Jeff:
Wow!
Bad Conscience:
Jeff, I'd like to have a word with you . . . about your soul . . .
Good Conscience:
No! Don't listen, Jeff!
Bad Conscience:
Why are you wasting your life . . . night after night playing this comedy music . . .
Jeff:
You're right . . . I'm too heavy to be in this group . . .
Bad Conscience:
Comedy music . . .
Good Conscience:
Jeff! Your soul!
Chorus:
You're wasting your life
You're much too heavy Jeff
To be
Jeff:
. . . In this group all I ever get to do is play Zappa's comedy music . . . He eats.
Good Conscience:
Jeff!
Jeff:
I get so tense . . .
Bad Conscience:
Of course you do, my boy
Jeff:
The stuff he makes me do
Is always off the wall
Bad Conscience:
That's why it would be best
To leave his stern employ
Jeff:
And quit the group . . .
Bad Conscience:
You'll make it big
Jeff:
That's right!
Bad Conscience:
Of course
Jeff:
And then I won't be small!
Chorus:
Ha ha ha ha ha
Ha ha ha
He-he-he-he-he
Ho ho ho ho
Jeff:
Heh heh heh
. . . Cough cough . . . Ahmet Ertegun used this towel as a bath mat six weeks ago at a rancid motel in Orlando, Florida, with the highest mildew rating of any commercial lodging facility within the territorial limits of the United States, naturally excluding tropical possessions . . . mmmjigspffftgmmd . . . It's still damp! What an aroma!
This is the best I ever got off . . . What can I say about this elixir? Try it on steaks . . . cleans nylons . . . small craft warnings. It's great for the home . . . the office . . . on fruits . . .
Bad Conscience:
This is the real you, Jeff . . . Rip off a few more ashtrays, get rid of that inner tension, quit the comedy group . . . get your own group together . . . heavy . . . like Grand Funk. Or Black Sabbath!
Good Conscience:
No, Jeff!
Jeff:
. . . Or Coven!
Good Conscience:
Peace! Love!
Bad Conscience:
Bollocks!
Jeff:
What can I say about this elixir?
Howard:
Jeff has gone out there on that stuff.
Good Conscience:
He should have never have used the elixir . . . and only stuck to the incense . . . Oh Atlantis.
Mark:
That was Billy The Mountain dressed up like Donovan fading out on the wall mounted TV screen. Jeff is . . . flipping out . . . road fatigue . . . We gotta get him back to normal before Zappa finds out . . . and steals it and makes him do it in the movie!
Bad Conscience:
You have a brilliant career ahead of you, my boy . . . just get out of this group!
Mark:
Howard! That was Studebaker Hoch dressed up like Jim Pons giving career guidance to the bass player of a rock-oriented comedy group! Jeff's imagination has gone beyond the fringe of audience comprehension.
Howard:
Jeff, Jeff, it's me, The Phlorescent Leech!
Mark:
Jeff, Jeff, it's me, Eddie!
Jeff & Mark:
What can I say about this elixir?
Mark:
Well, put it on your steaks, uh send it overseas [for . . . killing ground], and put it on your surfboard you won't slip off, try it on your
[...], and on the, the red balloons, you can blow up all balloons with it. Put it on your . . . heh . . . on . . . on your pizzapizzas. Put it on your shoes, tie your wifebike with it, and fill up your tires with it . . .
Howard:
Use it to clean your swimming pool, sell it to your mother and tell her it's a Rit tie-dye kit you won't even believe what'll happen when you starch your shirt with it. Ironing goes easier. And your car windows never looked better in your whole life. Ladies and gentlemen, you can inhale it and it makes your voice three keys higher, and you can't even stand what happens when you put it in your hair. As hair tonic. Heh heh. And if you ever tried it as a . . .
Jim Pons:
Soak your shirts in it, soak your teeth in it, let it play the piano, tow it up around the block, wear it instead of jeans, bathe your puppies with it, feed it to your ducks, use it instead of chlorine in your swimming pool, breathe it, rub it . . .
Group:
What . . .
What can I . . .
What . . .
What can I say about this . . .
Mark & Howard:
Dwee doo dee-oo-poo fram, minnn
Han nin-att
Han nin-att . . .
Jeff:
Does this kind of life look interesting to you? . . . Night after night, dinners with Herb Cohen, thrill-packed, fun-filled evenings, on the French Riviera at the Midem convention, a beige tie, the whole bit, watch Mutt eat and Leon feed the geese, one thousand green business cards with your name and the wrong address plus six royalty statements, inspected and customized by Rantoon Tan, Hantoon Frammin, and Dee, followed by twelve potential sucides, as the members of your group, past and present, find out they can't collect unemployment? A dog, a car, an epidemic of body lice, and your own record company, your name on the door, electric buzzer to the inner office, and Ona's tits, and a three month supply of German bookings with tickets on Air Rangoon. Does this kind of life look interesting to you? As a fake rock and roll guitar player in a comedy group?
Chorus:
Two Hundred Motels
Two Hundred Motels
Tan-toon ran-tan-na-na-han nnnn
Two Hundred Motels
Jeff:
I'm stealing the room
I'm stealing the room
I'm stealing the room
Chorus:
I'm stealing the room
I'm stealing the . . .
I'm stealing the room
Stealing
I'm stealing the . . .
I am . . . mmm
Steel
I am steel
Steel
S-s-steel
I am steel
Steel
Ooo-ooo, do you like my new car?
Ooo-ooo, do you like my new car?
She's such a dignified lady
She's so pretty and soft
You can't call her a groupie
It just pisses her off
(Yeah)
She's got diamonds and jewelry
She's got lotsa new clothes
She ain't hurtin' nobodyfor money
So that everyone knows
That she knows what she wants
Knows what she likes
Daddy, daddy, daddy . . . oooh!
Daddy, daddy, daddy . . . oooh!
Daddy, daddy, daddy
Look out . . . she's got her eyes on you
She left her place after midnight
(La la la la la)
And she drove to the club
(La la la la-ee-ah!)
You know that her and her partner
(La la la la la)
Came here lookin' for love
(La la la la-ee-ah!)
They want a guy from a group
(La la la la la)
That's Who's Got a thing in a charts
(La la la la-ee-ah!)
IF YOUR HIS DICK IS A MONSTER
IF YOUR HIS DICK IS A MONSTER
IF YOUR HIS DICK IS A MONSTER
They will give him their hearts
'Cause they know what they want
([...] they know about itDo it, d'ya wanna-wanna?)
And they know what they like
Daddy, daddy, daddy . . . oooh!
Daddy, daddy, daddy . . . oooh!
Daddy, daddy, daddy
Look out . . . she's they got her their eyes on you
FAM-BAM-YAK-A-TA-TAHHH!
They know what they want
They Know what they like
Daddy, daddy, daddy . . . oooh!
Daddy, daddy, daddy . . . oooh!
Daddy, daddy, daddy . . . oooh.
Awright, you got 'em screamin' all night
(La la la la la)
Screamin' all night
Ooo-ooo, do you like my new car?
(Do it, do it, d'ya wanna-wanna do it, do it?)
It's a hip thingBentley!
(Ooh!)
Ooo-ooo, do you like my new car?
(Do it, do it, d'ya wanna-wanna do it, do it?)
It's a Cooper!
(Ooh!)
Ooo-ooo, do you like my new car?
(Do it, do it, d'ya wanna-wanna do it, do it?)
It's a Chevy!
(Ooh!)
Ooo-ooo, do you like my new car?
(Do it, do it, d'ya wanna-wanna do it, do it?)
You're a big gunOr a Lincoln!
(Ooh!)
Ooo-ooo, do you like my new car?
(Do it, do it, d'ya wanna-wanna do it, do it?)
['Cause they're dancin'!]
(Ooh!)
Ooo-ooo . . .
Penis dimension!
Penis dimension?
Penis dimension is worrying me
I can't hardly sleep at night
'Cause of penis dimension
Do you worry?
Do you worry a lot
No!
Do you worry?
Do you worry and moan
That the size of your cock is not monstrous enough
No!
It's your penis dimension
Penis dimension
Howard:
Wah
Wah
Mark:
Hiya, friends. Now, just be honest about it . . . Did you ever consider the possibility that YOUR PENIS, and in the case of many dignified ladies, that the size of the titties themselves might provide elements of subconscious tension?! Weird, twisted anxieties that could force a human being to have to become a politician, a policeman, a Jesuit Monk, a rock & roll guitar player, a wino . . . you name it! Or, in the case of the ladies, the ones who that can't afford a silicone beef-up, they become writers of hot books . . .
Howard:
"Manuel, the gardener, placed his burning phallus in her quivering quim . . ."
Mark:
Yes, or they become Carmelite Nuns . . .
Howard:
". . . Gonzo, the lead guitar player, placed his mutated member in her slithering slit . . ."
Mark:
. . . Or race horse jockeys! There is no reason why you or your loved ones should suffer. Things are bad enough without the size of your organ adding even more misery to the troubles of the world!
Howard:
Right on! Right on!
Mark:
Now, if you are a lady and you've got munchkin tits, you can console yourself with this age-old line from primary school:
Mark & Howard:
"ANYTHING OVER A MOUTHFUL IS WASTED!"
Mark:
Yes, and isn't it the truth?! And if you're a guy and one night you're at a party and you're trying to be cool . . . I mean, you aren't even wearing any underwear you're being so cool . . . and somebody hits on you one night and he looks you up and down and he says:
Howard:
"Eight inches or less?"
Mark:
Well, let me tell you brotherbrothers, that's the time when you got to turn around and look the that sonafabitch right between the eyes and you got to tell him these words . . .
What will this evening
Bring me this morning?
What will this evening
Bring me this morning?
Dawn will arrive
Without any warning
What will I say
The next day to whatever
I drag to my hotel tonight?
(If things go all right!)
What will I say
The next day to whatever
I drag to my hotel tonight?
(Will she be outasite?)
What will this evening
Bring me this morning?
What will this evening
Bring me this morning?
A succulent fat one
A mod little flat one
Maybe a hot one (to give me the clap!)
Maybe a freak who gets off with a strap
What will I say the next day to whatever I drag to my hotel tonight?
(What will I say the next day to whatever I drag to my hotel tonight?)
If things go all right!
(If things go all right!)
What will I say the next day to whatever I drag to my hotel tonight?
(What will I say the next day to whatever I drag to my hotel tonight?)
Will she be outasite?
(Will she be outasite?)
What will I say the next day to whatever I drag to my hotel tonight?
(What will I say the next day to whatever I drag to my hotel tonight?)
If things go all right!
(If things go all right!)
What will I say the next day to whatever I drag to my hotel tonight?
(What will I say the next day to whatever I drag to my hotel tonight?)
Will she be outasite?
(Will she be outasite?)
What will I say the next day to whatever I drag to my hotel tonight?
(What will I say the next day to whatever I drag to my hotel tonight?)
If things go all right!
(If things go all right!)
What will I say the next day to whatever I drag to my hotel tonight?
(What will I say the next day to whatever I drag to my hotel tonight?)
Will she be outasite?
(Will she be outasite?)
What will I say the next day to whatever I drag to my hotel tonight?
(What will I say the next day to whatever I drag to my hotel tonight?)
If things go all right!
(If things go all right!)
What will I say the next day to whatever I drag to my hotel tonight?
(What will I say the next day to whatever I drag to my hotel tonight?)
Will she be outasite?
(Will she be outasite?)
What will I say the next day to whatever I drag to my hotel tonight?
(What will I say the next day to whatever I drag to my hotel tonight?)
If things go all right!
(If things go all right!)
What will I say the next day . . .
Phyllis Bryn-Julson:
Why don't you strap on
This here bunch
Of cardboard boxes, daddy-o
(Joy of my desiring)
You'll certainly look suave
And get me hot
Hot
Hot
Get me hot and horny
Chorus:
Ah oo
Phyllis Bryn-Julson:
If there's one thing I really get off on
Chorus:
YOINNGG!
Phyllis Bryn-Julson:
It's a nun suit painted on some old boxes
Some old melodies
Four-four
An aura . . .
An areaola areola . . .
Pink gums . . .
Stumpy gray teeth . . .
Dental floss
Gets me hot
Wanna watch a dental hygiene movie?
Ooh, the way you love me, lady,
I get so hard now I could die
Ooh, the way you love me, sugar,
I get so hard now I could die
Open up your pocketbook,
Get another quarter out,
Drop it in the meter, mama
And Try me on for size
Open up your pocketbook,
Get another quarter out,
Drop it in the meter, mama
And Try me on for size
Ooh, the way you squeeze me, baby,
Red balloons just pop behind my eyes
Ooh, the way you squeeze me, girl,
Red balloons just pop behind my eyes
Open up your pocketbook,
Get another quarter out,
Drop it in the meter, mama
And Try me on for size
Open up your pocketbook,
Get another quarter out,
Drop it in the meter, mama
And Try me on for size
Mark:
Oh, Do you really wanna please me?
Howard:
Well, you know I do, babybabe
Mark:
Well, tell me why you do it
I really wanna know
Howard:
Oh, no, no, I it wouldn't be right
For me to tell ya you tonight
Mark:
You better tell me right away
Or I'll dress I I'll pack up and go!
Howard:
Don't get mad
It ain't no big thing
Mark:
You better tell me right away,
Don't you treat me cold
Howard:
HOLD IT, HOLD IT, HOLD IT, HOLD IT!
Well, there are a lot of reasons why I'd . . . I'd drag a girl such as yourself back to this . . . plastic hotel room and . . . rip you off for spare change to run a . . . to run a vibrating machine attached to this queen-size, bulk-purchase, kapok-infested, do-not-remove-tag-under-penalty-of-law type bed and . . . and make you take off all your little clothes . . . until you are were nearly STARK RAVING NUDE! (Save for your chrome-with-heavy-duty-leather-thong Peace Medallion, heh . . . ) And make you assume a series of marginally erotic poses involving . . . a plastic chair and . . . an old guitar strap while I . . . did a wee-wee in your hair and . . . beat you with a pair of tennis shoes . . . I got from Jeff Beck.
Dew
On the newts we got
Newt money due
It's a payment on the rental
For the dewy little newts
We got
We got 'em dewy
Left 'em in the yard all night
Hope they didn't get uptight
The little vixens
The saucy little vixens
I hope they didn't get pissed off
I hope
They they
Did not
Did not
I hope
That they
Did not
Dash off
Into the night!
Blorp!
Blorp
Tss
The lad searches the night for his newts
Blorp!
Tsss-t
Blorp
Narrator:
The girl wants to fix him some broth
Phyllis Bryn-Julson:
Tinsel cock
Chorus:
Doo-weeoowee-do
Tinsel cock my baby
Phyllis Bryn-Julson:
Would you like some broth?
Narrator:
Some nice soup
Phyllis Bryn-Julson:
Some hot broth?
Chorus:
Yum!
Narrator:
Small dogs in it
Chorus:
Doggies
Phyllis Bryn-Julson:
Do ya?
Narrator:
You like broth?
Chorus:
Doo wad'n' um
Narrator:
Dog broth?
Phyllis Bryn-Julson:
Hot broth?
Chorus:
Hot dog broth
Narrator:
You like
Dog broth hot?
Phyllis Bryn-Julson:
Hot dog debris?
Chorus:
Debris!
Narrator:
How d'ya like it?
Chorus:
Dog breath?
Dog broth?
Dog breath broth?
Narrator:
Debris?
Of the four styles offered:
Debris, broth, breath
And the ever popular, hygienic
European version
Tinsel cock!
Phyllis Bryn-Julson & Chorus:
Tinsel cock
Narrator:
Which do you choose?
Narrator:
The girl
Chorus:
Duh girl wants ta fix him some broth
Narrator:
In a statement to the press
Chorus:
D-d-d-duhhh
Narrator:
Explains . . .
Phyllis Bryn-Julson:
Broth reminds me of nuns
Chorus:
Nuns
Nuns
Nuns
Phyllis Bryn-Julson:
I see them smashing
Chorus:
Kids
Phyllis Bryn-Julson:
With rulers
Chorus:
Bap!
Phyllis Bryn-Julson:
Disciplining munchkin cretins
Tortured munchkins
Tortured munchkin
Chorus:
Munchkin cretins
Munchkin victims
Phyllis Bryn-Julson:
Irish Catholic victims
Little green scratchy sweaters
Chorus:
Sweaters
Phyllis Bryn-Julson:
Little green scratchy ones
Chorus:
Corduroy pants
Phyllis Bryn-Julson:
Brown corduroy pants
Chorus:
Doo ah
Doo ah
Phyllis Bryn-Julson:
Corduroy pants
An' green scratchy
Munchkin Irish Catholic victims
Chorus:
Munchkins
Munch-a-kins
Phyllis Bryn-Julson:
Munchkins get me hot
Chorus:
Oo ah
Phyllis Bryn-Julson:
Munchkins get me get me ee
Oo ah ee oo
Narrator:
Hot!
Gets her real hot!
Theodore Bikel:
This, as you might have guessed, is the end of the movie. The entire cast is assembled here at the Centerville Recreational Facility to bid farewell to you, and to express thanks for your attendance at this theater. This might seem old fashioned to some of you, but I'd like to join in on this song. It's the kind of a sentimental song that you get at the end of a movie, it's the kind of a song that people might sing to let you in the audience know that we really like you and care about you, yeah . . . We uh, Understand how hard it is to laugh these days, with all the terrible problems in the world!
Lord, have mercy on the people in England,
For the terrible food those these people must eat
(Bwaarp! . . . excuse me a minute)
And may the Lord have mercy on the fate of this movie
And God help bless the mind of the man in the street
Chorus:
Help all the rednecks and the flatfoot policemen
With Through the terrible functions they all must perform
And God help the wine-os, the junkies and the weirdos
Phyllis Bryn-Julson:
And e'vry every poor soul who's adrift in the storm
Group & Chorus:
Help e'vrybody everybody so they all get some action,
Some love on the weekend, some real satisfaction
Phyllis Bryn-Julson:
A room and a meal
And a garbage disposal
A lawn and a hose'll
Be strictly genteel
Group:
Reach out your hand to the girl in the dog book
The girl in the pig book and the one with the horse
Make sure they keep all those businessmen happy
And the purple-lipped censors and the Germans, of course
Group & Chorus:
Help everybody, so they all get some action,
Some love on the weekend, some real satisfaction
Group:
A Sweddish Swedish apparatus
With a hood and a bludgeon
With a microwave oven
Honey, how does do it feel yeah
Lord have mercy on the hippies and faggots
And the dykes and the weird little children they grow
Help the black man
Help the poor man
Help the milk man
Help the door man
Help the lonely, neglected old farts that I know
Theodore Bikel:
It's been swell havin' you with us tonight, folks!
Mark:
But, don't leave the theater yet, 'cause there's still more to come, but before we go on, I want to introduce to you my friend and musical associate, Howard Kaylan, who's going to give us all a final closing benediction . . .
Howard:
They're going to gonna clear out the studio
They're going to gonna tear down all the . . .
They're going to gonna whip down all the . . .
They're going to gonna sweep out all the . . .
They're going to gonna pay off all the . . .
Mark:
Oh, yeah!
Group:
And then . . .
And then . . .
And then . . .
And then . . .
Hey hey hey, everybody in the orchestra and the chorus
Aww Come on now,
Talkin' 'bout the light bulb men
Camera men
The make-up men
(The fake-up men)
AndYeah, the rake-up men
(Especially Herbie Cohen, yeah . . .)
They're all going to gonna rise up
They're going to gonna jump up
I said jump up
Talkin' 'bout jump right up on and off the floor
Jump right up and hit the door
They're all going to gonna rise up and jump off!
They're going to gonna ride on home
They're going to gonna ride on home
They're going to gonna ride on home
They're going to gonna ride on home
And once again
Take themselves
Seriously, yeeeah!
Two, three, four, seriously
They're all going to gonna go home (ye-hey!)
Through the driving sleet and rain
They're all going to gonna go home
Through the fog, through the dust
Through the tropical fever and the blistering frost
They're all going to gonna go home
And get out of it as they can be, baby
And the same goes for me
(The same goes for me)
Oh, yeah!
Oh, yeah!
Oh, yeah!
Oh, yeah!
And each and every member of this rock oriented comedy group in his own special way
Is going to gonna get out of it as he can be
They're We all going to gonna get wasted
They're We all going to gonna get twisted
They're We all going to gonna get wasted
They're We all going to gonna get twisted
And I am definitely going to gonna get . . .
REAMED
'Cause I'm such a lonely
I'm such a lonely
A lonely, lonely, talkin' 'bout a lonely guy!
Howard:
Oh, and I know tonight, I am definitely . . .
I am positively . . .
I just have to get . . .
Group:
BENT, REAMED AND WASTED
JCB & Group:
A disaster area the size of Atlantic City, New Jersey!
Howard:
He's making me do this, ladies and gentlemen. I wouldn't do it if it weren't for thishimthis. You noticed, all through this material, I've been glancing over toward my left? Well, I'll tell you the reason for that, ladies and gentlemen. HE is over there. HE is over on the left. HE is the guy that is making me do all this shit. Right over there. Now all through this movie, every time we've been on stage, I've had to look over in that direction, right? You saw it . . . you know. Well that's 'cause HE's over there. I've got to watch him for signstime. He jumps up and down like a jackass. I can't even believe the guy sometimes. But we gotta watch him. "After all," we said, "it's Frank's movie." Now, we're THE MOTHERS, but it's still Frank's movie. Let's say it, he got to paid for it, movie, you understand? He got the bread for this, he rented the studio, had all these cheesy sets built painted . . . it's so moche! I can't even stand it . . . Here we are. He's telling everybody, right now, right over there, to . . .
Coming! Soon!
To a theater or drive-in near you . . .
Frank Zappa's incredible epic 200 MOTELS!
See the Mothers of Invention!
See Theodore Bikel!
See Ringo Starr!
See Keith Moon!
Romance!
Hot beats!
Romance!
Ah-hoo!
Hot beats!
Romance!
Mystery!
(You got him throwing gotta show 'em funny cars, man)
(Ah-hoo!)
Funny cars!
Help everybody, so they all get some action
Some love on the weekend, some real satisfaction
That's right, you heard right
Frank Zappa's 200 Motels
With the Mothers of Invention
Theodore Bikel
And Ringo Starr
200 Motels
A United Artists release rated 'R'
Under seventeen admited admitted with parent
Murakami Wolf/Bizarre productions present:
200 Motels
The Wide Screen erupts with absurdities,
explodes with spine tingling psychological terror.
The mere human mind buggles at the philosophical implications as FRANK ZAPPA'S 200 MOTELS is on leech in the totality of its [vagant] unleashed in the totality of its pagan splendor.
Its primordial fury.
Star-studded cast . . .
And everything
That's right, you heard right
Frank Zappa's 200 Motels
With the Mothers of Invention
Theodore Bikel
And Ringo Starr
200 Motels
A United Artists release rated 'R'
Under seventeen admited admitted with parent
Coming! Soon!
To a theater or drive-in near you!
Frank Zappa's epic motion picture 200 Motels!
See the Mothers of Invention!
See Theodore Bikel!
See Ringo Starr!
See Keith Moon!
See groupies and weirdos beyond your wildest expectations!
200 Motels, you can't believe the expense
The laboratorieslavishness
The romance
The intrigue The mystery
The ah-ooh,
200 Motels
Coming soon to a theater or drive-in near you
A United Artists release rated 'R'
Under seventeen admited admitted with parent
200 Motels
Frank Zappa's 200 Motels!
A United Artists release rated 'R'
Under seventeen admited admitted with parent
Ooh, the way you love me, lady,
I get so hard now I could die
Ooh, the way you love me, sugar,
I get so hard now I could die
Open up your pocketbook,
Get another quarter out,
Drop it in the meter, mama
Try me on for size
Open up your pocketbook,
Get another quarter out,
Drop it in the meter, mama
Try me on for size
Ooh, the way you squeeze me, baby,
Red balloons just pop behind my eyes
Ooh, the way you squeeze me, girl,
Red balloons just pop behind my eyes
Open up your pocketbook,
Get another quarter out,
Drop it in the meter, mama
Try me on for size
Open up your pocketbook,
Get another quarter out,
Drop it in the meter, mama
Try me on for size
Mark:
Do you really wanna please me?
Howard:
Well, you know I do, babe
Mark:
Well, tell me why you do it
I really wanna know
Howard:
Oh, no, no, it wouldn't be right
For me to tell you tonight
Mark:
You better tell me right away
Or I'll pack up and go!
Howard:
Don't get mad
It ain't no big thing
Mark:
You better tell me right away,
Don't you treat me cold
Howard:
HOLD IT, HOLD IT, HOLD IT, HOLD IT!