Unreleased Lyrics

Where's the stumbler gonna go
To watch the lights turn blue?
Well, right down the Village Inn
Squattin' down, poppin' up
Yeah, by the jukebox, man
Oh, that's what the stumbler's gonna do
Talkin' about, talkin' about me and you
What's the, what's the stumbler gonna do?

This is the new AM-NERIKA now!
(AMNESIA/AMERIKA—Better, somehow)
What cannot be fixed by a favor or bribe,
Should be dead or forgotten—it must not survive!

Those dreadful CREATIVES!
Those up-rising NATIVES!
They make us remember; They cause us such grief!
My HOLY DISEASE is the only relief!

I looked into the Bible,
Yes! And so, I'm not liable
for guilt to apply!
Those dreadful CREATIVES have all got to die!

You are the girl somebody invented
in an office building on Madison Ave.
The world could be crumblin' all over your head,
but you smile like an angel 'cause (you? they?) crave what you have

Your head's full of bubbles, your nose is petite
You look like you never get nothin' to eat
'Cept salads and juices, but never too sweet
You are totally odorless, even your feet

You are (?) and I'm sure, you could end every war
With a wave of your hand, you'd have total command
over millions of boys who would get you the toys
that you'd need to sustain your plastic domain

Then there are some who, when they see you, it's true,
think of disgusting little things they could do
over and under, around and through
the places where nature appointed you

They sit around and say:
[chorus, which sounds the same as the 1988 version, except every line is 'You'd take any kind of pain for me, wouldn't you, baby', not just the first.]

There is your picture, you look very nice
They see you struggle in a torture device
When you perspire, they will pack you in ice
When you go once, they will make you go twice

You're just a fantasy, but you're:
[chorus again. On one tape, Frank suggests 'Vinnie's umbrella' as a replacement for one of the 'wouldn't you baby's.]

So low;
You go very low—
Low is where you come from;
Low is where you go
Beneath contempt!
Beneath contempt!
You're the vicious sleaze
We call The Government

What kinda guy wears his hair like that?
Like a custom molded vinyl hat
Nice little shoes, nice little suit
Clutchin' his Bible, with a snoot fulla toot

So low;
He goes very low—
Low is where he comes from;
'N where he oughta go
Beneath contempt,
(But he's tax-exempt)
A Jesus-jerker
For The Government

What kinda fool does he take you for,
When he makes them speeches on the Senate floor?
Lies about this; lies about that—
Beneath contempt is where he's at

So low;
He goes very low—
Low is where he comes from;
'N where he oughta go
Beneath contempt!
Beneath contempt!
Just another phony bastard
From The Government

The name of this song is Ralph Stuffs His Shoes.
(Here we go, y'all)
That's right, here we go y'all

One two, one two three four

La la la la la
La la la la la
La la la la la
La la la la la
RDNZL

Have you heard the news?
(Waah waah waah-waah)
Ralphie stuffs his shoes
(Waah waah waah-waah)
Have you heard the news?
(Waah waah waah-waah)
Ralphie stuffs his shoes
(Waah waah waah-waah)

They're so teeny
They're so tiny
They're so meeny
They're so miny moe
I said moe
We need some mo'
For the show
C'mon let's go
To the sto'
Whoa whoa whoa
Whoa whoa whoa

Whoa whoa, hey lawdy mama
Ralphie stuffs his shoes
Hey lawdy mama
Ralphie stuffs his shoes
He stuffs 'em

Have you heard the news?
(Waah waah waah-waah)
Ralphie stuffs his shoes
(Waah waah waah-waah)
Have you heard the news?
(Waah waah waah-waah)
Ralphie stuffs his shoes
(Waah waah waah-waah)

They're so teeny
They're so tiny
They're so meeny
They're so miny moe
I said moe
We need some mo'
For the show
C'mon let's go
To the sto'
Whoa whoa whoa
Whoa whoa whoa

Whoa whoa, hey lawdy mama
Ralphie stuffs his shoes
Hey lawdy mama
Ralphie stuffs his shoes
Hey lawdy mama
Ralphie stuffs his shoes
Hey lawdy mama
Ralphie stuffs his shoes
Hey lawdy mama
Ralphie stuffs his shoes
Hey lawdy mama
Ralphie stuffs his shoes
He stuffs 'em
He stuffs 'em

Whoa whoa, hey lawdy mama
Ralphie stuffs his shoes
Hey lawdy mama
Ralphie stuffs his shoes
Hey lawdy mama
Ralphie stuffs his shoes
Good lord, hey lawdy mama
Ralphie stuffs his shoes
Hey lawdy mama
Ralphie stuffs his shoes
Hey lawdy mama
Ralphie stuffs his shoes
He stuffs 'em
He stuffs 'em

Now this is a song about— I hate to bring the subject up, but this is a song about the depression. And I don't mean the last one.

Have you heard the news?
Can't afford no shoes
Have you heard the news?
Can't afford no shoes
(Help me out, y'all)

Have you heard the news?
Can't afford no shoes
Have you heard the news?
Can't afford no shoes

No more rubber
No more leather
It might all be
Gone forever too

No more room
If it's true
It won't do
My feet are blue
I tell you
With no shoes
Well, ah ooh

Well, well,
Hey lawdy mama,
Can't afford no shoes
Hey lawdy mama,
Can't afford no shoes
xxx

Forced to hold my nose
Just can't wash no clothes
Forced to hold my nose
Just can't wash no clothes

Went to buy some cheap detergent
Some emergent nation got my load
Got my load
Got my toad
That I stowed

Well, well,
Hey lawdy mama,
Can't afford no shoes
Maybe there's a bundle of rags that I could use
Hey anybody,
Can you spare a dime
If you're really hurtin', a nickel would be fine
Hey lawdy mama,
Nothin' we can buy
Chump Hare Rama, ain't no good to try
Recession
Depression

Can't afford no shoes
Can't afford no shoes

Well, well,
Hey lawdy mama,
Can't afford no shoes
Maybe there's a bundle of rags that I could use
Hey anybody,
Can you spare a dime
If you're really hurtin', a nickel would be fine
Hey lawdy mama,
Nothin' we can buy
Chump Hare Rama, ain't no good to try
Recession
Depression

The dragon spreads
His leather wings!
His rancid breath
Sets fire to things!
The pox-ed peasants
Fear the sound—
Destruction follows
All around!
They cry in fear:
"The end is near!
The King of Dragons'
Burnin' here!"

Screaming in his
Metal Tower,
Voice commanding
Evil Power—
Causing flame
To rise and dance—
("There goes England;
Now it's France!
Now it's time for Germany,
With flames as far as we can see!")

Satan is the
Dragon Master:
Bringer of
Untold disaster!
Leather children
Bound in chains;
Fever burning
In their brains—
Hate the day;
Hate the light—
Dragon Master
Rules the night

He lift lifts his head
We hear him roar:
Bring to me
The Dragon Whore!
Now behold:
His Dragon Prong—
It weights weighs a ton;
It's ten feet long!
Dragon Whore! Expose your vent!
Your Master's vengeance must be Spent!
Hear your Master call to you—
Now gargle down His steaming spoo!

Mommy, I want to be a dragon master

The dragon spreads
His leather wings!
His rancid breath
Sets fire to things!
The pox-ed peasants
Fear the sound—
Destruction follows
All around!
They cry in fear:
"The end is near!
The King of Dragons'
Burnin' here!"

Ah, [come together]
Satan!

Screaming in his
Metal Tower,
Voice commanding
Evil Power—
Causing flame
To rise and dance—
("There goes England;
Now it's France!
Now it's time for Germany,
With flames as far as we can see!")

Ah, [come together]
Satan!

Leather children
Bound in chains;
Fever burning
In their brains—
Satan is the
Dragon Master:
Bringer of
Untold disaster!

Dragon master
Dragon master

Shaking hands with the devil
Shaking hands with the devil
Shaking hands with the devil
His grip is
His grip is hot

He lifts his head
We hear him roar:
Bring to me
The My Dragon Whore!
Now behold:
His My Dragon Prong—
It weighs a ton;
It's ten feet long!
Dragon Whore! Expose your vent!
Your Master's vengeance must be Spent!
Hear your Master call to you—
Now gargle down His my steaming spoo!

Drag
Dragon master
Satan

Leather children
Bound in chains;
Fever burning
In their brains-
Satan is the
Dragon Master:
Bringer of
Untold disaster!

Blessed art thou
Children of the dark
Who are not in heaven
Grant me my divine power
Of eternal evil
Allow me to spontaneously combust
In the name of Satan
Sending forth your legions of succubi
I call them legions
For they are many
I will gladly [...] unbaptized child
So that I may fly
Transform my deformed body
Into [...] power
So that I may punish the unbelievers
For their [...]
Amen

Drag
Dragon
Dragon mas
Dragon master
Dragon masturbate

Drag
Dragon
Dragon mas
Dragon master
Dragon masturbate

Shaking hands with the devil
Shaking hands with the devil
Shaking hands with the devil
His grip is
His grip is hot

Drag
Dragon
Dragon mas
Dragon master
Dragon masturbate
Dragon masturbated
Dragon masturbated on
Dragon masturbated on my
Dragon masturbated on my face
The dragon masturbated on my face

The dragon spreads
His leather wings!
His rancid breath
Sets fire to things!
The pox-ed peasants
Fear the sound—
Destruction follows
All around!
They cry in fear:
"The end is near!
The King of Dragons'
Burnin' here!"

Ooh ooh
Ooh ooh ooh

Screaming in his
Metal Tower,
Voice commanding
Evil Power—
Causing flame
To rise and dance—
("There goes England;
Now it's France!
Now it's time for Germany,
With flames as far as we can see!")

Satan is the
Dragon Master:
Bringer of
Untold disaster!
Leather children
Bound in chains;
Fever burning
In their brains—

Satan is the
Dragon Master:
Bringer of
Untold [blaming] flaming disaster!
Total control
Is what he is after
Get on your knees
And obey your master

Hate the day;
Hate the light—
The Dragon Master
Rules the night
He lifts his head
We hear him a roar:
Bring to me
The Your Dragon Whore!
Hear your Master call to you—
[...]The engines of his evil due

Satan is the
Dragon Master:
Bringer of
Untold disaster!
Leather children
Bound in chains;
Fever burning
In their brains—

Satan is the
Dragon Master:
Bringer of
Untold [blaming] flaming disaster!
Total control
Is what he is after
Get on your knees
And obey your master

Satan is the
Dragon Master:
Bringer of
Untold disaster!
Leather children
Bound in chains;
Fever burning
Fever burning
Fever burning
In their brains—

Satan is the
Dragon Master:
Bringer of
Untold flaming disaster!
Total control
Is what he is after
Get on your knees
And obey your master

Satan is the
Dragon Master:
Get on your knees
And obey your master

Drag
Dragon
Dragon Mas
Dragon Master
Drag
Dragon
Dragon Mas
Dragon Master
Drag
Dragon
Dragon Mas
Dragon Master
Drag
Dragon
Dragon Mas
Dragon Master

You are, are my desire
Yoooou come to me
In dreams through a garden wall
It is covered with a lot of dew
And I suppose you're covered too
Just slightly wet
Better yet
You're my a stew

You are, are my balloon
Yoooou come to me
In dreams through a . . . or two blue pontoon
It's covered with a lot of dew
And I suppose you're covered too
Just slightly wet
Better yet
Let's go screw

I'm screwing you
I'm screwing you
I'm screwing you
I'm screwing you
Oh boy, I'm doin' it!
I'm really neat
I'm really neat
You're really sweet
You're really sweet

In and out
Mmm, In and out
In and out
I'm going In and out
It's divine,
You are mine, you're so fine
Squat on my blaster, make it go faster
Squat on my blaster, make it go faster
(drum solo)

JCB: You ought to do it man, because you know exactly how it goes

FZ:

Now I see I've should've run like a rabit
Love comes along and I reach out and grab it
Doggone it, dagnab it
Falling in love is a stupid habit
Falling in love, in love, in love

(One Two Three Four)
Maybe this doesn't happen to you
You could be a superman
But if I see somebody new
I reach out and grab her hand
I reach out and grab a lot
Cause I like what she has got
She don't need what I propose
So I gets it up the nose

(...Two Three Four)
Doggone it, dagnab it
Falling in love is a stupid habit
Doggone it, dagnab it
Falling in love is a stupid habit
Falling in love, in love, in love

(One Two Three Four)
You could be the lucky type
You could have a fancy car
All the girls know what they like
And if you've got it you'll go far
But I speak out and say hello
The girls all tell me where to go
People this goes on and on
What the heck have I done wrong

Two, Three, Four
Doggone it, dagnab it
Falling in love is a stupid habit
Doggone it, dagnab it
Falling in love is a stupid habit
(etcetera)

FZ (spoken): The next song is called "Giraffe", and it's a fantasy about indiscriminate use of ovens in America.

Flo & Eddie (sung):

Wanda Larue, Harry Atley too
Frieda McDougall, Nola Zemonsky
Went to the ovens a week or so ago

It doesn't matter if you're small
Jewish and small, Jewish and small
Jewish at all, Jewish at all

[instrumental section]

Wanda Larue, Wanda Larue [gah]

Help me, help me, [something]
Help me, help me, [something]
Help me, help me, [something]
Help me, help me, [something]

But there's nothing that we can do
But there's nothing that we can do
But there's nothing that we can do
But there's nothing that we can do

[opening arpeggio of "The Air"]

FZ (spoken): Meanwhile, in the ovens . . .

Flo and Eddie (sung): The air, escaping from . . .

If something gets in your way,
Just THINK IT over...
If something gets in your way,
JUST THINK IT OVER!

If something gets in your way,
Just think it OVER...
If something gets in your way,
JUST THINK IT OVER!

And
It will fall down
It will fall down
It will fall
Just wait 'n see!

Soon
It'll fall down
It'll fall down
It'll fall
TAKE IT FROM ME!

Everything that gets in your way ain't real
Everything that gets in your way ain't real
Everything that gets in your way ain't real
It ain't real!
It ain't real!
It ain't real, so
"What's the deal?"

Over
Over
Over
It'll fall over

[I came in] your mouth and broke your nose it's true
I came in your mouth, but you wanted me to
Well, you were just looking for something to do
So I came in your mouth, ah, and darling you liked it
You liked it a lot

So I scummed on your hair
But you said that wasn't fair
You know I tried to hold you tight
But you leaned to the right
And of course it co— [edit]

So tender, my dear, you should have listened to me
But there was so much when you reached out to touch
Adhesion occurred and your vision was blurred

That's when I came on your face
And also every other place
This strange material went
As over you bent (doo doo)
Yes, you bent over and

I came on the wall
And all the pictures on it started to crawl
Toward the holy water thing down the hall
And I filled it all

That arrogant Dick Nixon
his lies are a legend in congress today
His nose got so long it could reach to L.A

The ignorant/idiot people's choice
the pleasure of seeing their buddy get in
They watched his commercials and knew he would win
The Idiots' choice...

Try an' imagine his office recording machine
He's a bore and a prude, and obnoxiously rude
Wish he'd get screwed

Bebe will ??? him and Billy will pray
his nose will grow and grow, and enter the world
of fakers and fuckers and people like you
who smile and think they know what he is about

We think we know everything, maybe so,
this crises thing, will it blow off everything (?)

Try an' imagine his bullshit, advanced and extreme (obsessed and deranged)
All the time that he knew, he was pissing on you
What can we do?

Feelin' sorry
Feelin' sad
So many ugly people
I feel bad
I'm so cute
They're so homely
Some of them
At home 'n lonely
Wish they could be
Very cute like me
They will never
Get to be
Some folks got it
Some folks don't
Some so ugly
They never won't

If you look good
Might as well admit it
I'm real groovy
And you should get it

Everybody
See my hair
See my clothes
I'm sure you care
Bet you wish
You were killin' me
'Cause I sure am and also sweet
I'm sweet as honey
I'm a piece of cake
From the ???
'N ??? he take
Vitamin E
'N all the B's
The ginseng extract tweezes me

Well, step aside
I'm on a ride
I'm on a strut
I'm on a slide
Hey, ugly folks,
Go get some cyanide
An' die
Die you ugly suckers

[violin solo]

Die you ugly suckers

Well, this is the nation
Of beautiful people
Beautiful and clean
And healthy and carefree
Never get old (that's right)
Never smell bad (that's right)
Ugly is bad (that's right)
Bad is wrong (that's right)
Wrong leads to eternal damnation
An' hot burnin' fire
Hot burnin' fire
Hot burnin' fire
Screams of agony
Screams of agony
Screams of agony
Arrrrrrghhhhhhh!

Don't be alarmed
See that was just a demonstration, folks

Cute people never experience any discomfort

Ugly is wrong
Wrong is bad
Bad is sinful
Sin leads to eternal damnation
And hot burning fire
Hot burning fire
Hot burning fire
And screams of agony (yo-o)
Screams of agony (yo-o-o)
Screams of agony (wooooo)

[plus some vocal sound effects that I won't try to transcribe]

And now for sports...

This is a story, tell it quick as I can
a week ago, I met a stumbler man.
He stumbled up, he said "All I wanna know,
How far the motherfuckin' Kaiser Rolls.
(How's about a dollar for some Kaiser Rolls—1981 rehearsal)

And this part (?) shoulda' have turned him red,
so hard talking to a stumbler man.
He stumbled over, and over again
"The Kaiser fuckin' Rolls since the time began"

I raised my finger from the center of my hand,
tried to wave farewell to the stumbling man.
He stumbled 'n puked (?) in a garbage can.
"The Fuckin' Kaiser Rollin might raise some sand"

Pushed him aside as he was slow in my path
so hard to understand a real stumbler man.
Stuff stuck up his nose, crawl all over his clothes, he said:
"No one really tells me which way he go"

Kaiser rolls, roll 'n roll?
Kaiser rolls, and guys 'n rolls??
...surprising to me they ain't catched him yet,
how's about a dollar for some cigarettes?

Every night you sit in your room
Right by your radio
Reading your books
Pictures of the idol you lo-ove

The words that he sings
The way that he looks
In a picture on the wall
There's a tear in his ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-eye

Picture yourself with a whore in New Orleans,
with big purple welts, all over her bod.
Somebody calls and you answer quite slowly.
It's the board from assembly, oh goAssembly O' God

Ignorant crackers like you've never seen, groveling under your bed.
Look for the girl with the spoo in her lap, and she's gone!

Louisiana hooker with herpes.
Louisiana hooker with herpes.
Louisiana hooker with herpes.
Owwww!

We saw her go down to a room by the airport,
where Jimmy gets off watching pornography.
Everyone smiles as we tread through his horseshit,
that grows so incredibly high.

Newspaper writers appear at his door, waiting to take Jim away.
He climbs in the back with his head up his ass, and he's gone!
Louisiana hooker with herpes.
[everybody!] Louisiana hooker with herpes.
Louisiana hooker with herpes.
Owwww!

Picture yourself on your own TV station,
with brain-dead supporters with tears in their eyes.
Suddenly someone is there at commercial,
the girl with the pee-hole surprise.

Louisiana hooker with herpes.
[c'mon now!] Louisiana hooker with herpes.
Louisiana hooker with herpes.
Owwww! Ow!

Louisiana hooker with herpes.
Louisiana hooker with herpes.
Louisiana hooker with herpes.
Owwww! Ow!

(Texas Motel follows)

Captain Beefheart:

This strange fellow that we see approaching the studio is named 'Ned The Mumbler'.

Ned:

I'm new at your high school
No teenage girl to call my name
I'm new at your high school
No teenage girl to call my name
Just because my daddy done work for the government
I've changed schools until it's a crying shame

I'm just a-mumbling 'round your schoolyard
wishing someone knew my name (you're 'someone')
I'm just a-mumbling 'round your schoolyard
I'm wishin' someone knew my name
Lord knows I need some friendship 'til it hurts me
Why can't these people feel my pain?

Captain Beefheart:

Boldly he steps through the door!

Ned:

One of Look at these little teenage girls
They go for a football name
I'll have to show 'em just what's shakin'
Let 'em know just who I am

Captain Beefheart:

Ned's marvelous! He's not nearly as marvelous as I am, of course, but he's a kind of a teenage 'Lone Ranger'.

Ned:

My name is 'Ned The Mumbler'
An' I ain't gonna lie
Well, 'Cause I've been all over the country
With you Been here and all around
I've used my secret power
In every kind of town
Now my fortune (...)brings me here
And a lot of things the logical thing to do
Just Is take my secret power
And use it on one of you!

Captain Beefheart:

Ha ha! Ned has a brainstorm!

Here's a phrase that makes me fry,
Often used by Georgie-pie—
Our interest spans have all grown shorter,
Now Georgie sells us NEW WORLD ORDER.

NEW WORLD ORDER? Gimme a break!
How much sense does this shit make?
Imperialism ain't so new—
Smells like what they's got for you—

And, y'know, that "world" they talk about?
Their map has left a few folks out—
And order? ORDER? Brought by force?
A yearly war! Why not? Of course!

Oh, excuse me, by the way,
Who the fuck's s'posed to pay
For Georgie's "Thousand Points Of Strength"
(Or is it wishful weenie length?)

Jim... once had a girl, or should we say, she once had he.
She... showed him her room, isn't it swell, Texas Motel.
She asked him to stay and she told him to sit anywhere.
So Jim looked around and he noticed there wasn't a prayer.

Jim... took off his rug, biding his time, pounding his pud.
He... prayed until two, and then she said, "How 'bout some head?"

She said she was booked in the morning with Falwell and Pat.
Jim told her he wasn't, and dribbled some spoo in her lap.

And... when he awoke, he was alone, she'd honed his cone.
So... he let her fly, isn't it swell, Texas Motel

But then, suddenly...

(Louisiana Hooker With Herpes follows)

OOH, IN THE SKY
OOH, IN THE SKY
OOH, IN THE SKY
OOH, IN THE SKY
OOH, IN THE SKY
OOH, IN THE SKY
IN THE SKY
IN THE SKY

OOH, IN THE SKY
OOH, IN THE SKY
OOH, OOH, AH-AAAH
OOH, IN THE SKY
OOH, IN THE SKY
OOH, IN THE SKY

OOH, NITE OWL
OOH, NITE OWL
OOH, NITE OWL
OOH, NITE OWL
OOH, NITE OWL
OOH, NITE OWL
IN THE SKY, YEAH

OOH
OOH, IN THE SKY
IN THE SKY

Verse II:
They go to the party just to chew on the cheese
and they act like they all have some great expertise
they tell you rock 'n roll is dead, oh spare me please!

Hey Joe, who did you blow?
Moe pushed the button boy and you went to the show
I call you a fool but you're really too low
So stay where you belong
on the end of baby's dong (?)
so suck it good and strong,
it'll help your job along.

Verse III:
Fuck all you writers with a pen in your hand
I will be more specific so you might understand
You can all kiss my ass but because it's so grand
You best just stay away.

Hey, Hey, Hey, Hey Joe, better book off of Moe
Better help fill that quota now, your rent makes you flow.
Better suck a little harder or the sheckles won't flow
And I don't need your thumb
So on your knees you bum
Just tell yourself it's yum
And suck until you're numb.

(break)

Suck Mo, just get down there and suck.
A little napkin for your knees perhaps?

It was a Portuguese Lunar Landing,
(Redondo Beach & all)
A fascinating evening, full of shrimp
And rugged thrall

With a tank of Duty Water
(Which a cleric had designed),
They pushed a secret plunger, made of sponge,
For all mankind,
And launched a rumpled rocket
Just to see what they might find

Here we are!
It seems like yesterday!
Little craters, rather brittle
(Yes, I knew they'd be this little!)
No air for making noises!
Hot in the sunny part; cold in the shade
(That'd be your temperature choices)

Mother, Mary 'n Jozeff! Lookit that over there!
We join the Portuguese astronaut on the moon, where he has just discovered a mysterious creature wandering about. And in true Portuguese fashion, he sings to it, with the help of his buddies.

It seems to be movin' along
Under its own steam!
(If steam, itself, was possible here),
But since it's not, I guess I got
Not a heck of a lot to fear—
Not a heck of a lot to fear—

But is that an eara tear?
Is that a tearan ear?
Is it really, really movin'?
Is it really comin' near?
If I turn around 'n run,
Will it get me on the rear?
(An' chew m'booty)
Will it get me on the rear?
(An' chew m'booty)
(An' chew m'booty)
(An' chew m'booty)

I wonder if it talks,
Or what it might just say!
I wonder if I get paid extra
For findin' this sucker today!

If the TV camera's on,
There'll be a picture when I'm it's gone,
An' I'll be Portuguese and famous,
In the astro-cosmic dawn!

Fweet, fweet, fweet!
Little fella!
Walk toward the camera 'n smile! That's it!
Son-of-a-bitch! Fweet, fweet, fweet!
Jesus! It's 30 feet long!
(Lemme adjust this dial—)

That's right, hold it, that's a real nice shot.
Don't you come no closer to me.
I got a Portuguese wife and a Ford and a knife,
And I want them all to see.

No! Get back! Get back! Get back!
Get yer suckers off the side of my shoe!
No! Get back! Get back! GET BACK!
Or I just might I'll be forced to Kung yer Fu!

Better be careful, you slimy thing!
I'm dangerous, can't you see?
Got a Portuguese wife and a Ford and a knife,
So you best not mess with me!

If yer ya ooze gets on onto me, all my air the gas will come out
An' I just might choke 'n die,And I'll choke in my suit of the sky.
So stop, or I'll shoot, through that the flange on yer glute,
An' tromple on the stalk of yer eye!
An' tromple on the stalk of yer eye!
An' tromple on the stalk of yer eye!
An' tromple on the stalk of yer eye!

No! Get back! Get back! Get back!
What a horrible way to go!
No! Get back! Get back! Get back!
No, no, no, no, no, no!

Never trust no monster, home or away—
They never do mean you no good!
(They always munch and bite and chew,
'Cause that's their livelihood!)
I best repeat, people: you're their meat;
Don'tcha never give in to their line!
If you see 'em smile like a crocodile,
They's just about to Any old place they'll seek you out
That's where they're gonna wine and dine

While yer eye's on the sparrow,
They'll They're gonna scarf up yer marrow,
An' confiscate yer spine—
Gonna say it again: Don'tcha never give in!
Let him eat some other sucker next time!Don't you even read the sign.
Don'tcha never give in, or give up, or give out,
Or give awayway, or move over again!
Give head if y'wanna, or blood if yer gonna,
But remember what I'm tellin' you, men:
Give head if y'wanna, or blood if yer gonna,
But remember what I'm tellin' you, men:
Give head if y'wanna, or blood if yer gonna,
But remember what I'm tellin' you, men:
Give head if y'wanna, or blood if yer gonna,
But remember what I'm tellin' you, men:

There's some kinda monster 'round every corner
Wanna whip some ooze on you—
Just tell him to beat it, or you're gonna eat it,if you don't wanna eat it
'N keep on chargin' through!
Just tell him to beat it, if you don't wanna eat it
'N keep on chargin' through!
'N keep on chargin' through!
'N keep on chargin' through!
Give head if y'wanna, or blood if yer gonna,
But remember what I'm tellin' you, men.
Give head if y'wanna, or blood if yer gonna,
But remember what I'm tellin' you, men.

It was a Portuguese Lunar Landing,
(Redondo Beach & all)
A fascinating evening, full of shrimp
And rugged thrall

With a tank of Duty Water
(Which a cleric had designed),
They pushed a secret plunger, made of sponge,
For all mankind,
And launched a rumpled rocket
Just to see what they might find

Here we are!
It seems like yesterday!
Little craters, rather brittle
(Yes, I knew they'd be this little!)
No air for making noises!
Hot in the sunny part; cold in the shade
(That'd be your temperature choices)

Mother, Mary 'n Jozeff! Lookit that over there!
It seems to be movin' along
Under its own steam!
(If steam, itself, was possible here),
But since it's not, I guess I got
Not a heck of a lot to fear—

But is that an ear?
Is that a tear?
Is it really, really movin'?
Is it really comin' near?
If I turn around 'n run,
Will it get me on the rear?
(An' chew m'booty)
Will it get me on the rear?
(An' chew m'booty)

I wonder if it talks,
Or what it might just say!
I wonder if I get paid extra
For findin' this sucker today!

If the TV camera's on,
There'll be a picture when I'm gone,
An' I'll be Portuguese and famous,
In the astro-cosmic dawn!

Fweet, fweet, fweet!
Little fella!
Walk toward the camera 'n smile! That's it!
Son-of-a-bitch! It's 30 feet long!
(Lemme adjust this dial—)

No! Get back! Get back! Get back!
Get yer suckers off the side of my shoe!
No! Get back! Get back! GET BACK!
Or I just might Kung yer Fu!

Better be careful, you slimy thing!
I'm dangerous, can't you see?
Got a Portuguese wife and a Ford and a knife,
So you best not mess with me!

If yer ooze gets on me, all my air will come out
An' I just might choke 'n die,
So stop, or I'll shoot, through that the flange on yer glute,
An' tromple on the stalk of yer eye!
An' tromple on the stalk of yer eye!
An' tromple on the stalk of yer eye!
An' tromple on the stalk of yer eye!

Never trust no monster, home or away—
They never do mean you no good!
(They always munch and bite and chew,
'Cause that's their livelihood!)
I best repeat, people: you're their meat;
Don'tcha never give in to their line!
If you see 'em smile like a crocodile,
They's just about to wine and dine!

While yer eye's on the sparrow,
They'll scarf up yer marrow,
An' confiscate yer spine—
Gonna say it again: Don'tcha never give in!
Let him eat some other sucker next time!
Don'tcha never give in, or give up, or give out,
Or give awayway, or move over again!
Give head if y'wanna, or blood if yer gonna,
But remember what I'm tellin' you, men:
There's some kinda monster 'round every corner
Wanna whip some ooze on you—
Just tell him to beat it, or you're gonna eat it,
'N keep on chargin' through!
'N keep on chargin' through!
'N keep on chargin' through!
'N keep on chargin' through!
Give head if y'wanna, or blood if yer gonna,
But remember what I'm tellin' you, men.
Give head if y'wanna, or blood if yer gonna,
But remember what I'm tellin' you, men.

There was a man and a dog,
Squattin' on a log.
He had him bitin' on a stick
Until the bark was all gone.
Here, little fella. Sit up and beg.
Open your jaws. And lift up your leg.
That little doggie's name was Rollo.
His little doggie dealie was hollow.

Little while later on,
Further down the road,
There was a lady and a man,
Who was about to get blowed.
Here, little fella. Sit up and beg.
Open your jaws. And lift up your leg.
That little husband's name was Rollo.
And his old lady's name was Swallow.

Spoken:
Rollo, if you love me, do like I told ya
And fetch unto me a baroque magnolia.

Slobberin' drunk at the Palomino
Got thirty days in San Ber'dino

Now I'm the world's greatest
Dirt-biker romeo
And my fingernails are greasy
So the girls would really know

Up in the desert full of benzedrino
Got thirty days in San Ber'dino

They got forty-four men
Stashed away in Tank "C"
An' there's only one shower
But it don't apply to me

You might think I'm
Dumb an' lonely
Got my wings and
That ain't only
Two percent now
Two percent now
Two percent now
Two percent now

Get away
(What, what, what?)
I don't xxx

Best-est way that
I can feel-o
Punchin' some mama
Who smoked a kilo
Oh my wheel-o
I'm for real-o
I'm for real-o
I'm for real-o
I'm for real-o
I'm for real-o
I'm for real-o
I'm for real-o

I got thirty days in San Ber'dino
Got thirty days in San Ber'dino
Got thirty days in San Ber'dino
Got thirty days in San Ber'dino
Thirty days in San Ber'dino

You have brought me solitude,
And I believe it is the time for me to show some gratitude.
I think I'll take a minute to reflect upon your attitude,
But most of all I love the way that you have brought me solitude.

You have been a friend to me,
And I believe it is the time for me to show some sympathy.
I watch the way you suffer with the problems only I can see,
But most of all I love the way that you have been a friend to me.

You have been misunderstood,
And I believe it is the time for you to feel the way you should.
I'd love to see you smile a while and know that you was feeling good,
But mostly I regret the way that you have been misunderstood.

You have been a friend to me,
And I believe it is the time for me to show some sympathy.
I watch the way you suffer with the problems only I can see,
But most of all I love the way that you have been a friend to me.

You have brought me solitude, you have brought me solitude ...
[repeats]

I met Pinky, I fell in love.
Thought she was an angel from heaven up above.

I'm telling you Pinky, you are the one
For me
Hey, heeeeey, heeeeey, hey, heeeeeh (!)

She has a motor, she...(Roy: She's so wonderful)
Thought she was an angel from heaven up above.

I'm telling you Pinky, no other girl will know...

Her lips are so tender, her eyes so revealing
How she can suck...
I love only you, you want to be cruel (??)
Maybe later on when you grow a body,
you and me can fuck.

I'm telling you Pinky, I'm telling you Pinky...

Let me take you down, 'cause we're going to... the Texas Motel.
Don't mind the smell.
It's nothing to get hung about.
Please leave your cash on the table.

Weeping looks better with eyes closed...
While I'm confessing all my sins.
[Oh, please forgive me. Oh, I've sinned!]
It's getting hard to plook someone, but it all works out.
It's all pornography to Jim.

Let me take you down, 'cause we're going to... the Texas Motel.
We might go to hell.
But we'll have lots of company.
Falwell and Pat and that weasel.

No one knows who's in my dream...
[Bud McFarlane, ladies & gentlemen]
I mean it must be high or low. (I think)
[freshly indicted] I mean, I can't you know, tune in, but it's all right.
[He can plea bargain this one]
That is, I think it's not too bad.

Let me take you down, 'cause we're going to... the Texas Motel.
Don't mind the smell.
It's just some jizz from Jimmy-boy.
How 'bout some hay for the donkey?

No one knows, sometimes think it's me...
[Ed Meese, ladies & gentlemen] But you know, I know when it's a dream.
[I think]
I think I know, I mean, I guess, but it's all wrong.
[Wait a minute, that's right]
That is, I think I disagree. [Uhh...]

Let me take you down, 'cause we're going to... the Texas Motel.
Don't mind the smell.
It's just some old pornography.
Just keep on strokin' that sausage.
Just keep on strokin' that sausage.
[Jimmy-boy!] Just keep on strokin' that sausage.

Well you can swallow my pride, well you can swallow my pride,
well you can swallow my pride, and get it all inside.
Well you can swallow my pride, well you can swallow my pride,
well you can swallow my pride, and get it all inside,
you can get it all inside, gonna get it all inside,
you can get it all inside.

[then there's a bridge that I can't hardly make out at all]
[???] now mama, work it on out.

Now mama let's take a ride, now baby let's take a ride,
c'mon mama get in my "uh", gonna get it all inside.
Now mama let's take a ride, now mama let's take a ride,
c'mon baby jump in the backseat with me now, gonna get it all inside.
you can get it all inside, gonna get it all inside,
gonna can get it all inside.

Stroke it baby, stroke, 'til my dory gets hunky.
Stroke it baby, stroke, 'til my dory gets hunky.
Keep on strokin' mama 'til my donkey gets hungry
[???] now mama, [???] now mama.

Why don't you like me?
(Hunh?)
Why don't you like me?
(Are you kidding me?)
Why don't you like me?
Am I really that bad?
Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah

You're ugly as fuck and you're ignorant too
You're a radical [?] schmuck
They oughta lock you up
And beat the shit outta you
(Oh, thank you)
Beat the shit outta you
(Thank you very much)

(You're too kind)
(Whip it good)

I hate my mother
(Hunh?)
I hate my mother
('Cause she looks like you)
I hate my sister
I hate my brother
Your brother, your brother, your brother

He's ugly as fuck
He goes to college too
He's studying law
He oughta eat it raw

Don't be a lawyer, don't be a lawyer
Don't be a lawyer, don't be a lawyer
(Be an accountant)
Don't be a lawyer, don't be a lawyer
Don't be a lawyer, don't be a lawyer
(Maybe a dentist)

Why don't you like me?
(Hunh?)
Why don't you like me?
(Are you kidding me?)
Why don't you like me?
Am I really that bad?
Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah

You're xxx slime and you are ignorant too
You're the scum of the nation
I'm changing the station
'Cause we gotta get rid of you
(Oh, hurt me)
We gotta get rid of you
(Hurt me very much)
We gotta get rid of you
(I like it when you hurt me)
We gotta get rid of you
(I'm so achey [?])

Why don't you like me?
(Are you kidding me?)
Why don't you like me?
(Are you kidding me?)
Why don't you like me?
(Are you kidding me?)
Like me? like me?
No
(Oh, that really hurt. Please do it again!)
(Okay, Bob)

These are the 90's:
The decade you wanted—
We know that you like them;
You think they are mod-ren

The zippers go this way;
The zippers go that way—
Glop on the mousse, now—
(Here comes the drum break!)

Dance, Dance
Take a chance
Dance, Dance
Find romance
Dance, Dance
Move your feet
Dance, Dance
Bliss complete

You go with No Men
Have you lost weight, then?
What an expression!
You are so serene!

Can you spell Turkey?
Where is Nebraska?
Isn't it perfect,
(The evening, I mean—)

These are the 90's,
Oh! They're really something!
Your clothes are so ugly,
They're almost obscene

It was 11 o'clock upon a Friday night,
you know the girl and me was feeling outta' sight
We had twenty reds and a big ol' pile of weed,
you know she drank some wine and then she LSD'd.

Chrissy puked twice and jumped on my bike,
she yelled "fire it up, 'cause you know what I like!"
She burned her leg on a tail-pipe then
and yelled "Shit-a-ree!", and puked again.

"Well, listen honey, I don't care if you don't want to do it. I think you smell anyway, as a matter of fact, and I'd just as soon pull up the easy chair by the fire xxx over there and pass me that xxx of brandy there and this packet of..."

Twenty small cigars

Twenty small cigars

Twenty small cigars

You can smash up your equipment
and throw out the pieces to the front row
we promised not to laugh even though it might be stupid,
Jimi smash it some more.

Jimi, Jimi, Jimi, why did you have to die-die-die?
Why Jimi, why Jimi, whyyyy...did you get so wasted?
You strangled on your vomit
that's really pretty gross.
Promotors Promoters are weeping,
coast to coast

If you think that drowning
in a pool of your own spewage
sort of makes you divine
you go to strangle on mine
Even today,
we know we're so evolved,
we keep on puking a lot

Oh, Jimi come back,
come back and watch us while we puke for you
You forgot how to laugh,
and now that's all we really know how to do

Turn turn
Turn turn
Turn turn
Turn turn
Turn turn
Turn turn, we're
Turning again
Turning again, we will
Turn around
Turn around, 'n
Do it again
Do it again
Turn again
We never learn, an' we
Done it again
We're gonna do it all again when we . . .
(repeats)

We're so young and happy
An' we know where it's at
We're never wrong about nothin'
An' we look good
We never ever have to worry 'caus it
Takes a lot of time 'n it's just too much trouble
To think about some stuff that's only boring
We ain't got no sense of humor
An' we hate everything that's going on
Because we have to
If we believe what's in the papers
And the magazines that define our folklore
Then we need to
And we can't laugh at nothin'
We can never laugh at who or what we seem to be
We are totally empty and our lives are really
Useless so what the fuck
We are descended from older brothers 'n sisters
Who used to take a banana 'n scrape the stuff off
The inside of the flap 'n bake it in the oven
Then they'd smoke it
They though that they was getting high from this
And somebody in an underground newspaper wrote an
Article that told them they was totally right
And not to worry if they got a headache later
They were mellow, the were mellow
They were wearing smelly blankets
The were Donovan fans
They walked around with stupid flowers
In their hair 'n everywhere
They tried to stuff 'em in the guns
Of all the cops 'n other servants of the law
Who tried to push them around
'N later mowed them down
But they were full of the bananas they believed in
So what the fuck
They would tighten all their headbands
On the weekend they would come to town
'N walk around the village to buy posters
They could hang up in their smelly little
Secret black-light bedrooms
Oh Jimi come back
Come back and regulate our fuzztone
Your haze was so purple
And we all knew your axis was bold as love
Oh Jimi feed back
Oh back 'n feed back when you come back
You can feed back the fuzztone from your wah-wah
While you squat down 'n set you guitar on fire
You can smash up your equipment
And throw all the pieces to the audience
And we will love it
We promise not to laugh even though it might look stupid
Since we're so evolved
Oh Jimi-Jimi-Jimi
Why did you have to die-die-die
Why Jimi, why Jimi, why
did you get so wasted
That you strangled on your vomit
If you would have stayed alive
Just a little bit longer we would have liked it
Then if strangling on vomit was your idea
Of a neat way to die
You could have strangled on ours
Even today, even though we're so evolved
We keep on puking a lot
There's tons to go around
After every single concert at the________________
Jimi come back 'n feed back 'n wah-wah
And watch us puke for you
We forgot how to laugh
And now that's all we know how to do
We dress like the 60's, yes we still look the same
You'll think you never went away
You prob'ly wear the same clothes too
And then we can all take some acid together
And go to a concert and get trampled to death
When we watch The Who

We can turn it around
We can go back in time
We can do it all again
Through the canyons of our mind
On the Eve of Destruction
We can fix everything 'n make it go right
We can get in the bath tub with that other guy Jim
An' make him be more careful
We can visit big Mama
'N whap her on the back when she
Eats her sandwich
We can take care of Janis
When she gets so wasted she can't see straight
We can laugh at Keith Moon's jokes
An' tell him he's okay when he gets depressed
Jimi come back
You're the only thing the writers still believe in
An' we believe in the writers
'Cause they write 'n read then we read and we think it's right
What they've written about
'Cause we are functional illiterates
And we can't have any fun because we
Can't be laughing
And neither can you because it's boring being dead
So let's go trip out together

She had a hairbrush with a dildo at on the end of it
She wanted Stevie to go in and out a little bit
He then decided that an even better way to go
Was a banana and a Harris Rolling [???] stereo
(or: Was the banana and the hairbrush both in going stereo)

He took the challenge and he revved it them up to warp nine
(Captain, she's gonna blow!)
She said that he should be a porno-poocher all the time
He rubbed again and then promptly giggled and adjusted his bikini shorts
(Hee hee ha ha ho ho hee hee ha ha heh heh ho ho)
And tried to talk her into rubber love and water sports

We been there,
Livin' the Live Beyond The Beat;
Livin' the Live Beyond The Big Beat; Dance Beat
(You know the one—everybody's playin' that same ol' beat)

We been there,
Playin' them songs
With the beat all wrong;
Tanglin' feet—
Playin' them songs
For the people who know 'bout the Good Stuff—
Can't get enough,
'Cause the Big Groups all go
(--------)

On that road, playin' in places
Where you can't hear;
Playin' in towns that are never near to a plane or a train—
Ah The Good Life!
Burnin' up the road in a bus all night—
Ain't this livin'?
Ho-Ho-Ho-Ho!
Ain't this livin'?
I don't know—
Time to go

On that road!
Hit another town where they sit there,
Quiet in the chair, like a Zombie—
Wanna hear every note;
(Did we play all the notes there?)
Do they still roll around
In the back of the room,
Or somewhere?