You Can't Do That On Stage Anymore Vol. 5

The kids are freaking out
Everybody's Everybody is goin' nuts
The heat's out every night
To call up names and kick thier their butts
But Well everytime you turn around
You'll see some joker staring back
He's got a secret tape recorder
And a camera in a sack
Pretending that he's just another
Of the kiddies freaking out
But they pay him off in acid
'Cos 'Cause he's a downtown talent scout

He's got your name
And he's got your face
He's got your ex-old lady's place
He's here to see what's goin' down
And they don't believe the things he's found

The badges gleam and the minors scream
When he The heat pulls on the scene
They got no warrants in their pockets
But that badge makes them supreme

"You kids are smoking dandelions
You're sniffing paper bags, babymaybebaby
You're dropping Good 'N Plenties
We can tell; your posture sags
Now line up here against the wall
Your bodies frail and thin
And open up your pockets
While we dump the evidence in"

Well they know that smoking flowers
Won't win a case in court
And they know that Good 'N Plenties
Aren't the psychedelic sort
But they tear your place apart
Because they simply couldn't pass
A chance to drag some freaks downtown
For smoking devil grass

Well you never get your day in court
The food downtown is foul
The day of trial you nearly die
With maggots in your bowel
But modern law and justice
Has advanced to such a point
That a jury trial is useless
They simply take you to the joint
'Cause after all you look so freaky
How could anyone believe
That what you think and what you feel
Comes close at all to what is real

Blow your harmonica, son!

Hands Up!
POO-LAAHH!

Here lies love
In a grave caused by jealousy
Here lies love
In a grave caused by jealousy
Hate was a the pall bearer
And on the tombstone was written "Misery"

It was a bad situation
From the beginning to the end
It was a bad situation
From the beginning to the end
I say, baby you killed my love
Now the undertaker is your friend

Now I'm sad and I'm blue
There's not much I can do
If these blues don't leave me
The undertaker will get me too

Ooh-hoo Oh oh, here lies love
In a grave caused by jealousy
You know that hate was the pall bearer
And on the tombstone was written "Misery"

 

FZ: While the well-disciplined Ian Underwood plays selected fragments from Mozart's "Piano Sonata In B-flat" and we make electric noises, some members of our rocking teen combo will hop around on stage in a grotesque parody of the art of ballet dancing.

Hey . . . double path!
. . . Double path
You get a double?

Oh you have to carry him . . .
You Carry him?
You have to carry him
Come on, I told everybody over, you told to her, I mean . . .

He looks fat!

God, oh m' God!

Where's the chicken?

Bock! Bock! Be-REHH
Bock! Be-REHH
ACTION!
Bock bock, be-REHH
Boy, do I hate chickens!
Bock bock, be-REHH
Bock bock, be . . . SNORK
SNORK . . . SNORRRRK . . .

FZ: During this part of our extremely zany ballet, Don Preston disguised as a mad scientist will convert the unwilling Motorhead Sherwood into a walking zombie.

Bock . . . bock, bock . . . bock . . . BOCK!

Don, No, let him get his smock on!

Hal-a-vah . . . Hal-a-vah
Hal-a-vah . . . Hal-a-vah
Hal-a-vah . . . Hal-a-vah
A-hal-a-vah . . .
Chocolate HalvahHal-a-vah
Chocolate HalvahHal-a-vah
Chocolate HalvahHal-a-vah . . .
Hal-a-vah . . .

JCB: Hands up!
Kansas: Man, why's he [...] he's got them two microphones taped together. What if we taped their our dicks together that way? What would they say?
Dick: Yeah, but You'd have a helluva time gettin' your pants on, I'll I tell ya that . . .

I got a feelin' called the blues,
Oh lord, since my baby said goodbye (been gonnnnne)
Dee dee dee dee
Lord I don't know what I'll do (to dooo)
All I do is sit and cry, oh lord
Since them dead-gone my dead long days you said goodbye
Well, lord, I thought I would die
(The beer that made Milwaukee famous
But the Braves didn't hurt it any)
She do me, she do you
She got that the kinda lovin'
Lord, I love to hear her when she call me sweet da-ay-ay-ddy

 

 

Uh ha ha! Uh ha! Uh ha ha ha!
Oh but . . .Oh, Bunk!
Oh God! Stop!Oh, don't stop!
Ha ha ha ha!
Oh, God! Oh, God!
Ha ha ha!

Oh! Ha ha ha!
Oh, God!
Gimme thatLeave it there
Right . . . right there, right there!
(Perfect! Perfect!)
Right there, right there, right there!
Oh oh oh ha ha!

Ah ah ah ah ah!
Ay ay ay ay . . . ay . . .
Ah ah ay!
Right there, right there, right there
Ah, oh, God! Oh, God!
AY!
OH, GOD!
AY!
Ah! Oh oh oh . . .
Oh . . . ay . . . ay . . .
(Oh, God, oh!)
(God . . . God . . . Blood . . . Blood . . . oh . . . oh no . . .)
(I mean it! I mean it!)

"Oh, yeah . . . alright!
Oh, baby, right there . . .
Oh, oh, oh . . . me
Oh, yes . . . oh, yes . . . oh . . . ahh . . . hh . . . "

Why don't you . . . I don't know why . . .
Don't . . . oh, God, when you talk, I can't stand it!

Right there, right there, right there, right there
Right! Right! Right!
Right there, right there
Oh, right there
Oh . . . Ah ah ah!
Over there . . .
Right there, right there, right there, right there
Ha ha ha ha!
(Oh, Bunk . . . )

"Oh, yes . . . oh . . . ahh . . . Bunk . . . oh, God . . .
Oh . . . oh . . . oh . . .
Oh, yes . . . oh . . . ahhh . . . hh . . . "

Pip . . . WAAAH!

"Oh, yeah . . . oh, yes . . . oh, yes . . . oh . . .
Oh, yes . . . oh, yes . . . oh . . . that's good!
Oh, yes . . . oh, wonderful . . . oh . . . Bunk . . .
Oh, God . . . oh, no . . . no . . . aw . . . aw . . . "

No, no, no
More, more, more! More! More!
"AHH . . . ah . . . ahh . . . oh, no . . . oh, no . . . no . . . ah . . . hh . . . hhh . . . "

More . . . more, more, more
More . . . more . . .
More, more, more, more, more, more, more, more . . .

(What, what we're gonna do, "All Night Long"?)
FZ: Thank you!
(We do "All Night Long" now?)

Oh, gosh, sure! Oh, gosh! Oh oh . . . oh . . .
POO-AAH . . . WAH!
I feel It feels so good!
WAH!
I feel It feels so good!
WAH!
Uh ha ha ha ha . . .
HANDS UP!

FZ: Thank you.
Guy #1: No violence here, it's part of the evening . . .
FZ: Would you like to come up here and sing with us? Come on, anybody can sing this stuff.
Guy #2: Nahh, Yeah, I bet . . . I wanna, -wanna I wanna think that stuff.
FZ: You wanna what?
Guy #2: Think it.
FZ: You wanna think it?
Guy #2: Yeah, right.
FZ: Why don't you make up some words for us and we'll sing 'em?
Guy #3: Johnny Velvet on the loose
Guy #4: . Oooh, Yeah, Johnny Velvet!
FZ: Where is Johnny Velvet?
Guy #5: Where is him! Where's Johnny Velvet on now!
Guy #6: Why don't you look inna Central Park?
Guy #2: "Help I'm A Rock"!
FZ: "Help I'm A Rock," you really want us to play that?
Audience: Yeahhh! Yeah! No! No! Yeah!
FZ: Yeah! No! Who gives a shit?
Guy #?: Right!

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

POO-WAHAHH!

JCBDick: Heh-heh-heh-heh-heh
Kansas: That'll do you[...].
JCB: My name's Kansas and . . .
JCB & Kansas: I'm from Lyons.
Kansas: The Lyons' lionsLyons Lions.
JCB: L-Y-O-N-S.
Dick: You got any smokes?
Kansas: Y'damn right.
JCB: Huh?
Dick: You got any smokes?
JCB: What kind of smokes?
Dick: Cigarettes.
Kansas: Wanna Chester booger?
JCB: What else did you think I meant, I got some cigars up there too, brother.
Dick: No, I jes', Frank wanted to know if you had any Winstons. Anybody have any Winstons?
JCB: No, I don't.
Kansas: Gimme a Chesterfield.
Dick: Does Motor have any more Winstons, I know he just bought a carton . . .
JCB: I'll pass man.
Kansas: Boy, I'm havin' another one. You can't beat another Chesterfield, like the 48 others.
JCB: After 48 others.
Kansas: Suck 'em right up. Euclid, get up!
Dick: Let him sleep.
Kansas: Fuck him, all he does is sleep.
JCB:
Dee dee do, do dab dewn
Dub dab dab doo da down
Dabbe doobbe doobbe
Down down doo doo
Dee dee dee dee
Put that pistol down, babe
Put that pistol down, girl
Put that pistol down
Kansas: Don't take your guns to town, Bill,
if you do . . .Leave your guns at home

Art?: I got a [fartbun...]gotta fart, Bunk.
Roy: See my head here?

Roy: See my head? MY HEAD?!! Ha ha ha ha . . .
Mother #2Art?: No, no, more, stop it)no . . .
Bunk: Let's see if you can put your knees all the way up to your armpits, Art.
Mother #3JCB: Artie, Artie, Artie . . . Artie.
Mother #4: See, I'm getting . . . easier
Roy: Suck, suck . . . suck forthmore.
Mother #5Bunk: Sit on his face girl.
Roy: Suck it, suck it all overa little bit. Say, say hello baby. Suckit.
Mother #3JCB: Doonk.Bunk.
Bunk: What?
Mother #3JCB: Stick it in.
Roy: Juice it, juice it.
Mother #3JCB: Get Stick it in.
Mother #4Art: Lemme, lemme see your cock.
Mother #5: White skin , lemme . . . women.
Mother #4: Oh God, oh, Jesus.
Mother #5: Look at it man.
Oh, yeah, oh, look at . . .
Roy: One, two, three . . .
Mother #5: Oh, look at that.
Roy: One two three?
Is it succulent?
Mother #5: She is so wonderful.
Mother #4: Ooh, You grabbed, you grabbed a tuft of hair there . . .
Oooh, I like it.
Mother #4: Do you? Ha ha ha . . .
WOOF! Roy: Hooh-hoh-ha-ay, BRAP!
Come up here, we're havin' a party.
Roy: Oh Artie Art oh. Jizz you . . .
FZ: Ha ha!
Roy: Jizz you, Art!
Look out.
Mother #4: Gimme, gimme some noseanothernose.
Roy: Jizz you.
AYYYY
Mother #4: You're gonna tear the fuckin buttons.
Roy: Jizz you.
AYYYY
Roy: Jizz you.
Owwww.
I didn't even believe it.
Mother #4: You didn't believe it?
Roy: Jizz it . . .
Oh, look at that.
Boy I didn't believe it.
Oh, that's good.
I didn't even beleeve it.
I didn't even beleeeeve it.
How 'bout that, you're going to . . .
All that hair coming out of me . . .
Happy Birthday, Artie.
Roy: How many humps do we give him? How many humps do we give him? Twenty four?
Twenty four big ones.
Roy: Twenty four big ones. Twenty four jizzers.
Mother #3JCB: Get one . . . and one to count. And one to grow on.

Mmm-meow,
Mmmm-meow,
Mmmmmm-meow,
Mmm-meow
Poo-wah
Poo-wahAHHH
Poo-wahAHHH

 

 

 

So beerage (?)cold, many myriads. Oh, there's my, my all-time favorite though, instantly. There's no waiting for the peanuts to dissolve.
(That's two-fifty$2.53)
Somebody's . . .
They don't have one of my all-time favorites.
(Mary?)
It's really upsetting, you know?
(This gentleman here wants to have astill, to know how— Right here is fine [...] wants to drink a . . . )

FZ: They're really getting professional now in the dressing room, waiting for the Vanilla Fudge to go off, Motorhead and Arthur Dyer Tripp the Third are playing cards.
ArtMotorhead: Pair of queens! What is this shit?
MotorheadArt: Pissy, pissy poop.
ArtMotorhead: Can I go down with two cards?
MotorheadArt: Pissy, pissy poop.
ArtMotorhead: Do it this way. Give me you a good chance buddy.
MotorheadArt: I'll take that sonabitchson'bitch.
ArtMotorhead: You better not
MotorheadArt: I took it.
ArtMotorhead: Oh, you're running for a spade straight, are ya?
MotorheadArt: I took ut.ITKUT!
ArtMotorhead: Oh I got your number now, man.

Motorhead: Art: Oh Well, whaddaya know.
Art: MotorheadBunk?: I knew know it.
Art: You havehad any the other one I wantwanted?
Motorhead: PRT!(phhht!)
ArtIan?: I hear a Fuzztonebuzztone.
MotorheadRoy?: Wahhh-ha ha ha ha! Indio!
JCB?: You shink zink evvyzing gonna evvyzinnn be awright?
Art: Ian: Is this an accounting office?

FZ: This is uh, underground, psychedelic, acid-rock freak out music.

Yea-uh!
Moowaahhhh!POO-AAHH

Immer ist der Himmel ueber über alles
Fur euer himmel
Where are your papers?

(Thank you.)

Lowell: Uhh, may I see your papers pleez?
JCB: Uhhh, lemme see. I'll try . . .
Lowell: Hand me your suitcase, let, let me open it.
JCB: I'm, I'm just a bit nervous, you understand.
Lowell: Open the ze suitcase.
JCB: This hasn't happened, uh . . . too often.
Lowell: Uh-huh, I see!
JCB: See, I, I don't think you . . .
Lowell: How many, sixty-two packages of cigarettes. Why are you carrying all zees into Germany for? What are you doing this for?
JCB: I . . . I . . . Hey!
Lowell: How long have you been livin' in Berlin?
JCB: Uh, I don't live in Berlin.
Lowell: Where do you live?
JCB: I live in Texas.
Lowell: Texas?
JCB: Texas.
Lowell: Oh I see, Lyndon Johnson lives in Texas too
JCB: I know
Lowell: Does he not?
JCB: Sure does.
Lowell: Oh, hm this is alright.
JCB: You mind . . . Is it alright if I shut my suitcase off?
Lowell: Shut it off???
(Laughters)Ha, ha ha ha.
JCB: Do Would you care for one of these cigarettes.

Lowell: Now, who's this lady you are withwizz?
JCB: Uh, what lady?
Lowell: This lady here, standing next to you.
JCB: Oh this is, this is uh . . .
Lowell: Has she has her papers too?
JCB: MsMrs. Tucker
Lowell: PAPERS!
Roy: Hello.
Lowell: Lemme see your papers!
Roy: Hi.
JCB: How come you have to yell so much, what did we do?
Lowell: I don't yell!
JCB: We're just trying to get into the country.
Lowell: This is my country. It's not your country.I go am I'm coined here, I've been standing here for years and years doing zis every time. You, you're making me very angry.
JCB: Is this the, is this ze Fazerland?
Lowell: This is ze Fazerland, yes.
(Background Voice #1: What's happenin'?)
(Background Voice #2: I don't know what . . . )
FZ: Listen, you ought to check all the Mothers through customs. Hey, line, line up as soon as you finished you're finishing going through customs . . .
JCB: Are you uh, through with me, sir?
Lowell: You may step over here to the right.
JCB: Thank you.

Lowell: My name is Fritz, open the ze suitcase please
Bunk: Just a moment here, just a moment.
Lowell: Open . . . What is this zis, there's sixty two copies of Horseshit Magazine.
Bunk: (Cough) Ah, ha . . .
Lowell: What are you carrying Horseshit Magazine around for?
Bunk: It's a hoax, hold it, hold it here.
Lowell: Where izzit?
Roy: Right there, Bunk!
Lowell: What is thiszis?
Bunk: Hold it, hold it. Ha ha! Hold it . . .
Roy: Right there! Right there!
Bunk: I'll never forget you, Fritz
Lowell: Alright, next, you may close this zis now.
Bunk: Alright.

Lowell: Next. Who's up? uhOh, here he comes. Who are you? You, hand me your paper.
(Roy: All the paper?)
Don: Here's my papers
Lowell: Oh . . .
(Background Voice: All ze paper)
Lowell: Your name is Duke? What's this Duke here?
FZ: Duke DeWild!
Lowell: Duke, Duke DeWild. Have you seen many German movies, you ever go to ze movies? Have you been . . .
Don: I never go to the movies
Lowell: What is zis, you bring zees into Germany.
(Background Voice: No wreck it all over . . . )
Lowell: Zees These are Japanese tools. Why do you bring Japanese tools to Germany where we make the finest tools ever, you, what are you doing? That's Zat's . . . 60 marks for you, oh my God, what's the matter with you?
Don: (coughing)WARRGH . . . WARRGH . .
Lowell: Oh my God, please
Don: WARRGH-H-H-H . . .
Lowell: Please not here.
Don: WARRGHNN . . .
Lowell: Step, oh my God, please . . .
Don: UH . . .URGH . . .
Lowell: Oh my God, OH AH UH . . . URGH! OH MY GOD! What are you doing? Ah!

Lowell: Oh, Who are you, what is your name, hand me your paper. Is your name Larry? Larry FrnogaFanoga?
Motorhead: YesYezz.
Lowell: Larry FrnogaFanoga?
Motorhead: Larry FrnogaFanoga.
Lowell: Oh my God, what are you doing, what are you doing zat for?
Motorhead: I'm beating the horse beatin' da horz to make it go fasterfazter.
Lowell: That's not a horse, that's a table.
Motorhead: What's the difference?
Ha, ha, ha(Laughter)
Motorhead: Don't go too fast, does it, neither does it, for a table.

Lowell: What is this? Ohhh, zefrin, Zephiran! "CL brand of benzalkonium [...] present by [Ann Eglenut]"
Ian: Sniff . . .
Lowell: Ah, nasal spray.
Ian: Sniff, that's right, sniff . . .
Lowell: You have a cold?
Ian: Sniff . . .
Lowell: How long have you had a cold?
Ian: About a year. Sniff. (Cough)
Lowell: You had a cold for a year?!
Ian: About.
Lowell: Are you trying to bring a cold in . . . ?
Ian: (COUGH) (COUGH)
Lowell: Into zis country?
Ian: (COUGH)
Lowell: Oh my God, don't cough on me.
Ian: (COUGH)
Lowell: What is does this medal say? Sais Says, "Berlin Survival Award, 1968."
Ian: That's where I got my cold.
Lowell: You were here before in Berlin.
Ian: That's right.
Lowell: What, what were you doing in Berlin?
Ian: I We gave a concert
Lowell: You gave a concert in Berlin?
Ian: That's right.
Lowell: To whom?
Ian: The German people.
Lowell: The German people
Ian: Yes.
Lowell: Don't take the ze German people lightly, I say.

Lowell: Who is this man here, is it Arthur, Arthur Arzzur, Arzzur Tripp?
Art: Arthur, Arthur
Lowell: Arzzur. Tripp.
Art: Yeah
Lowell: It's a German name, is it not?
Art: English
Lowell: Tripp?
Art: Ja.
Lowell: Tripp?
Art: Ja.
Lowell: Is it, is it . . . JA?!
Art: Ja, ja-ja . . .
Lowell: Stop giggling!
Art: Sorry.
Lowell: You're having too much fun, you know we arrest people for having to much fun here.
Art: I beg your pardon.
Lowell: When you come to someone else's country do you run around on the grass and make it dirty everywhere you go?
Art: No, I stick pretty close to the bars.
Lowell: You know you people all look, you . . . bars?
Art: You know . . .
Lowell: We have a lot of bars here
Art: Y'sure do. Heh-heh-heh
Lowell: Oh . . .
Art: scuze me if I laughExcuse me for laughing.
Lowell: Don't laugh.
Art: Alright, now, I'll do that.

Lowell: Who is this man here, the other man?
Art: Uh, he's our leader.
Lowell: He is your leader?
Art: Ja.
Lowell: Wh-what is his function and how does he lead you?
Art: He directs us by, with signals.
Lowell: Why? . . . What?
Art: Well, there were there'd be they're for various vocal noises that we use.
Lowell: Vocal noises?
Art: Uh-huh.
Lowell: Vat What are some of the zat ze noises?
Art: Eh, peep.
Lowell: Peep?
Art: PoowahPoo-ahh.
MOI: PooowahhhhhhPOO-AHHH!
Lowell: I see you all are very well organised, we all like order in Germany, you know.

Lowell: You have such a pleasant smile, may I see your papers?
Buzz: Well, you see, I, I don't exactly have my papers with me, I, it seems . . .
Lowell: You don't have papers?
Buzz: I may have left them in my other bag.
Lowell: In your . . .
Officer #2: He has no papers, huh?
Lowell: He has no papers.
Officer #2: Ahh . . .
Buzz: I mean if there was uh, if there was something I could do for you . . .
Lowell: Do you have any identification?
Buzz: Identification . . .
Lowell: It's a nice watch you have on.
Buzz: Lemme see . . .
Officer #2: WaB Was ist losloss?
Buzz: Well, it used to have a Mickey Mouse there, I don't . . .
Lowell: I tell you what I'll do. If, if, if you give me zat watch . . .
Buzz: NEIN!
Lowell: You got . . .
Officer #2: That's a very strange German accent.
Lowell: Ja.
(Laughter)
FZ: Arrest him!
Lowell: Are you sure . . .
Officer #2: He was transport etwas
FZ: He's a spy!
Lowell: Are you sure he's you're not a Russian? He's a Russian, I thinkzink.
Officer #2: I think so.
Lowell: Get Him.
FZJCB: HANDS UP!
Lowell: Oh God.
Officer #2: What, what's goin' on?
Lowell: You want an enema?
Buzz: No I'll take a cheeseburger.
Lowell: Why is the bow-tie going growing from your neck?
Buzz: I'm practicing to fly.
Officer #2: What the, ahh . . .
Lowell: Why is everyone in this group having bow-ties going growing from ze neck?
Buzz: They're all weird.
Lowell: Gimme your watch.
FZ: I still don't trust this guy's accent.

Lowell: Who is this, who, who? Come here, come over here.
Officer #2: Who's . . . who is . . . who?
Lowell: Do you have a suitcase.
Officer #2: We must watch this one.
Lowell: We must watch this one, right. Let's open the ze suitcase. Awright What is this zis? Oh, you too carry many cigarettecigarettes. Ah, what is this lyrics? Ah these are lyrics? "My, my guitar wants want to kill you mama . . . "
Officer #2: Mmm . . .
Lowell: "My guitar wants to burn your dad, I get real mean when he makes me mad." This is, this is very good, this is very normal. German lyrics. You're all welcome to our country.
FZ: Ha ha ha.
Lowell: Don't laugh.

You know, your mama and your daddy
Saying I'm no good to you
They call me dirty from the alley
Till 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 (ay!)

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 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 (ay!)

Deranged Fan: That's right! Let's go!

This girl is easy meat
I seen her on the street
See-through blouse an' a tiny little dress
Her manner indiscreet . . . I knew she was
Easy, easy, easy meat
Easy, easy, easy meat
Easy, easy, easy, easy
Easy meat, easy meat, easy meat, easy meat

She wanna take me home
Make me sweat and moan
Rub my head and beat me off
With a copy of Rollin' Stone . . . I knew she was
Easy, easy, easy meat
Easy, easy, easy meat
Easy, easy, easy, easy
Easy meat, easy meat, easy meat, easy meat

I told her I was late
I had another date
I can't get off on the Rollin' Stone
But the robots think it's great . . . I knew she was
Easy, easy, easy meat
Easy, easy, easy meat
Easy, easy, easy, easy
Easy meat, easy meat, easy meat, easy meat

Easy
She's so easy
Easy
I saw her tiny titties
Through her see-through blouse
Just had to take the girl to my house
Easy
Meat

Can you see what they are
Do you hear what they say
People it is sad but true
They dress really stupid but they think they're okay
And they've got no use for you
Oh the Dead Girls of London
Why do they act that way?

Maybe it's the water, mama
Maybe it's the tea
Maybe it's the way they was raised
Maybe it's the stuff what they read in the papers
Keeps 'em lookin' sorta half in a daze
Oh the Dead Girls of London
Why do they act that way?

We're the Dead Girls of London
We think thinks we are fine
We ain't hittin' on nothin'
But the boutique frame of mind

You see 'em dancin' at the Disco
Every night like a bunch of little robot queens
Makin' little noises full of fake delights delight
But they're really just so full of beans
Oh the Dead Girls of London
Why do they act that way?

We're the Dead Girls of London
We thinks we are fine
We ain't hittin' on nothin'
But the boutique frame of mind

Boutique frame of mind
Gee, I like your pants
Boutique frame of mind
Gee, I like your pants
Boutique frame of mind
Gee, I like your pants

Uhhh, Mike Scheller says his life is a mess
Fritz Rau says asparagus
Should only be consumed
By people with a large amount
In an unmarked bank account, fa fa fa fa fa fa

Shall we take ourselves seriously?
Shall we talk about it all night long?
Shall we think we are so evolved?
Will we be depressed
If we're wrong?

Shall we take ourselves seriously?
Shall we take ourselves elsewhere?
Shall we drink while we squat there
In the middle of this stupid song?

Shall we never go out there?
Shall we take us where we don't belong
When we notice that the Spargel is gone?
Shall we weep in the box office dawn
(Go away I'm no good for you)

Are the tickets all counted?
Are the costs all accounted for?
Shall we bring up the Spargel
For discussion at least once more?

Shall we take ourselves seriously?
Shall we think we are so mature?
Shall we be very wrong
At the end of this song?
If Yes we will ever (?)more

Hey, what's new in Baltimore?
(Rockin' Robin)
Hey, what's new in Baltimore?
(Hot Rod's Lips)
Hey, what's new in Baltimore?
What's new in Baltimore?

Hey, what's new in Baltimore?
(I don't know)
Hey, what's new in Baltimore?
(Better go back and find out)
Hey, what's new in Baltimore?
What's new in Baltimore?
What's new in Baltimore?
What's new in Baltimore?

 

I don't know much about dancin'
That's why I got this song
One of my legs is shorter than the other
'N both my feet's too long
'Course now right along with 'em
I Got no natural rhythm
But I go dancin' every night
Hopin' one day I might get it right
I'm a dancin' fool
(Dancin' fool)
Dancin' fool
I'm a
Dancin' fool
(Dancin' fool)
Dancin' fool
I Hear that beat; I jump outa my seat
But I can't compete, 'cause I'm a
Dancin' fool
(Dancin' fool)
Dancin' fool

The disco folks all dressed up
Like they's fit to kill
I Walk on in 'n see 'em there
Gonna give them all a thrill
When they see me comin'
They all steps aside
They has a fit while I commit
My social suicide, I'm a
Dancin' fool
(Dancin' fool)
Dancin' fool
I'm a
Dancin' fool
(Dancin' fool)
I'm a
Dancin' fool
The beat goes on
And But I'm so wrong
The beat goes on
And But I'm so wrong
The beat goes on 'n but I'm so wrong
The beat goes on 'n I'm so wrong
The beat goes on 'n I'm so wrong
The beat goes on 'n I'm so wrong
I may be totally wrong, but I'm a
Dancin' fool,
I may be totally wrong, but I'm a
Dancin' fool

I got it all together now
With my very own disco clothes
My shirt's half open, just t'show you my chain
'N the spoon for up my nose
I am really somethin'
That's what you'd probably prob'ly say
So smoke your little smoke
'N drink your little drink
While I dance the night away, I'm a
Dancin' fool
(Dancin' fool)
I'm a
Dancin' fool
I'm a
Dancin' fool
(Dancin' fool)
I'm a
Dancin' fool, HE'S A
DANCIN' FOOL

I may be totally wrong but I'm a
I may be totally wrong but I'm a
I may be totally wrong but I'm a
I may be totally wrong but I'm a
FOOL-uh!

Say darlin' what's a girl like you doin' in a place like this?
Do you come here often?
And if so why?
Wait a minute . . . I've got it . . . you're an Italian!
(Ki-ni-shinai!)
HahWhat?
Yer Jewish?
Love your nails . . .
You must be a Libra . . .
(Ki-ni-shinai!)
Your place or mine?

 

No more credit
From the liquor store
My suit is all dirty, boy
My shoes is all wore
I'm tired and lonely, my
Heart is all sore
Advance romance
I can't stand it no more

She told me she loved me
I believed what she said
Took me for a sucker, boy
All corn-fed
The next thing I knew
She had a bolt on the door
Advance romance
I can't use it no more, no, no more

She took George's watch
Like they always do
(It was a Timex, too!)
(WAH-HOO
WAH-HOO-OO)
(And ashamed And-a shame on you)
No more money, boy
I shoulda knew
The way she do me, boy
She might do you, too
The way she do me, boy
She might do you, too
The way she do me, boy
She might do you, too

Advance romance
He wanna try one time
Potato-head Bobby
Was a friend of mine
He opened three of his eyes
In the food stamp line
He opened four of his eyes
In the food stamp line
He opened five of his eyes
In the food stamp line
He opened six of his eyes
In the food stamp line
He said she might be the devil
But she sure was fine
Advance romance
He wanna try it one time, yeah

Later that night
He drop on by
He say all he wanna do
Is come up and say "Hi"
(HI-HI HI-HI HI-HI HI-HI HI-HI HI-HI HI-HI HI-HI)
Half an hour later
She had frenched his fry
Advance romance
Bobby, say good-bye

City of tiny lites
Don't you wanna go
Hear the tiny auto horns
When they tiny blow
Tiny lightin'lightnin'
In the storm
Tiny blankets
Gonna keep you warm
Tiny pillows
Tiny tiny ti-tiny sheets
Talkin' bout them the tiny cookies
That the peoples eat

Well, city of tiny lites
Maybe you should know
That it's over there
In the tiny dirt somewhere
You can see it any time
When you get the squints
From your downers and your wine
You're so big
It's so tiny
Every cloud is silver line-y
The great escape for all of you
Tiny is as tiny do
Tiny is as tiny do
Tiny is as tiny do
Tiny is as tiny do

City of tiny lites
Don't you wanna go
Hear the tiny auto horns
When they tiny blow
Tiny lightin'lightnin'
In the storm
Tiny blankets, tiny blankets
Are bound to keep you warm
Tiny pillows
Talkin' bout those tiny tiny tiny tiny tiny tiny sheets
Talkin' bout them those tiny cookies
That the peoples eats

City of tiny lites
Maybe you should know
That it's over there
Well, and it's over there
Say, and it's over there
Well, and it's over there

Waa-ooh-dow, wha-da-ba, pa-yap, pa-ee-ah-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa, pa-dap, pa-yooh-pie-pie —pah-yooh-p-pie-pap!

Sha-sha-sha, shaa sha-sha-sha,
Sha-sha-sha-sha-sha-sha-sure!
Sha-sha-sha, sha-sha-sha,
Sha-sha-sha-da-château free oh-doh-dah . . .
Shu, shu, d-d-dow, weah,
Da-da-dow, da-dee-ah, xa,
She lie so should-d-do-do-doo, dzoo-dzo-dzo-dzoo, doo dzo-dzo-dzoo
doo, dzo-dzo-dzoo-dat, whoo . . .
Da-teau, a-zho-zhow-dow,
Zho-zha-do-da chee, shu-sheh-due-shuew-dow sha, sha, sha-sha . . .
Sha-t oh-ah oh-oh-oh t-ah oh-oh-ah uh-ah uh-ah tuh-ah tuh-out tuh-ow-oh t-oh-teh-t-out-tow-ow,
T-to-dow,
Shtu-shtu-shtoo! Sheh-sheh-sheduh-chew!
Shoo-shee-doo-dah, yeah, sheh-shew da-duh sheh-shew da-duh
sheh-naa . . .

Voice: I don't know how, but we can see'em! We can see'em! I don't know how we can see those [inaudible] them playing before . . .

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
(Tonight)

I really love you
(I really love you)
You make me feel good
(You make me feel good)
Please don't deceive me
(Oh no . . . )
Doreen you know you should
Stay with me always
(Stay!)
We could be lovers
(Oh!)
Doreen you're different
Than all the . . . (oh!) 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
And I want you tonight
(Said, girl, I . . . )
I want you tonight
(Sweet Doreen)
I want you tonight
(You're gonna feel no pain, baby)
I want you tonight
(Sweet Doreen)
(I WANT YOU TO . . . )
I want you tonight
(Open up the door, baby)
I want you tonight
(Sweet Doreen, said I . . . )
I want you tonight
(Oh, Doreen, oh, well)
I want you tonight
(Well)
(YOU KNOW I WANT YOU TO . . . )

 

FZ: Okay, if you throw anything else on the stage, the concert is over.
French AnnouncerRay?Bobby Martin: Cherchez les personnes qui jettaient les cigarettes sur l'étage, s'il vous plaît. Et ne jettez pas les objets sur l'étage. Ne jettez pas les objets. Cherchez les personnes qui jettaient les cigarettes sur l'étage, s'il vous plaît.
FZ: Houselights, the concert's over.

Zappa! Zappa! Zappa! Zappa!