A Token Of His Extreme Soundtrack

I might be movin' to Montana soon
Just to raise me up a crop of
Dental Floss

Raisin' it up
Waxen it down
In a little white box
That I can sell uptown

But by myself I wouldn't
Have no boss,
'Cause I'd be raisin' my lonely
Dental Floss

Raisin' my lonely
Dental Floss
Raisin' my lonely
Dental Floss

Well I just might grow me some bees
But I'd leave the sweet stuff
To somebody else (how 'bout you, right over there?) and then I would

Keep the wax
'N melt it down
Pluck the Floss
'N swish it aroun'

And I would have me a crop
Poo-poo ta-na-nah
And poo-poo ta-na-nah

Movin' to Montana soon
Gonna be a Dental Floss tycoon
(Woppy-Ty-O-Ty-Ay)
I'm movin' to Montana soon (well)
Gonna be a mennil-toss flykune
(I wonder what that means . . . )

I'm pluckin' the ol'
Dental Floss
That's growin' on the prairie
Pluckin' the floss!
I plucked all day an' all nite an' all
Afternoon . . .

Oh, I'm ridin' a small tiny hoss
(His name is MIGHTY LITTLE)
He's a good hoss
Even though
He's a bit dinky to strap a big saddle or
Blanket on anyway
He's a bit dinky to strap a big saddle or
Blanket on anyway
Well, any way

I'm pluckin' the ol'
Dental Floss
Even if you think it is a little silly, folks
I don't care if you think it's silly, folks
I don't care if you think it's silly, folks

I'm gonna find me a horse
Just about this big,
An' ride him all along the border line

With a
Pair of heavy-duty
Zircon-encrusted tweezers in my hand
Every other wrangler would say
I was mighty grand

But by myself I wouldn't
Have no boss,
'Cause I'd be raisin' my lonely
Dental Floss

Raisin' my lonely
Dental Floss
(Yes it is!)
Raisin' my lonely
Dental Floss

Well I might
Ride along the border
With my tweezers gleamin'
In the moon-lighty night
(Help me out, Ruth! Tweezer glint . . . )

And then I'd
Get a cuppa cawfee
'N give my foot a push . . .
Just me 'n the pygmy pony
Over by the Dennil Floss Bush

'N then I might just
Jump back on
An' ride
Like a cowboy
Into the dawn to Montana

Movin' to Montana soon
(Yippy-Ty-O-Ty-Ay)
Movin' to Montana soon
(Yippy-Ty-O-Ty-Ay)
Movin' to Montana soon
(Yippy-Ty-O-Ty-Ay)
Movin' to Montana soon
(Yep!)
Movin' to Montana soon
(Why don't you sharpen it then?)
Movin' to Montana soon
(Yes indeed)
Movin' to Montana soon
(Yippy-Ty-O-Ty-Ay)
Movin' to Montana soon

FZ: Watch now . . .

FZ: That is the sound of a very short cymbal. It's a finger cymbal. It's something that's normally worn on the finger, and another one is worn on the thumb. The thumb and the finger are beaten together with these two little metal things to make it go ding, ding, ding. George Duke is now applying an ingenious technique, to the finger cymbal itself, as a prelude, a preamble to some sort of fantastic keyboard solo that he's going to invent for you right here on the spot. We don't know what he's going to do. We never know what George is going to do, and perhaps it's best for all of us. It'd better be best for all of us.
George: I'm getting to like that. That was called a push beat.
FZ: I thought it was a grace note.
Napoleon: I thought it was a booger bear.
FZ: Yes, you— you would think so.
George: But then, as he was thinkin' about whether it was a booger bear or not, somethin' happen'd.
FZ: Well . . .
George: Just like it did last show. And somethin' started a-rumblin' . . . And then all of a sudden . . . It got LOUDER! And it got LOUDER! And it got LOUDER until I couldn't stand it!

George: WOW! Goodness gracious! And then somethin' . . .
FZ: Oh, why don't you sharpen it then?
George: Something else happened. It was midnight. And Ruth wouldn't come through.
FZ: Midnight in the laboratory of a nationally known mad scientist.
George: I told her. I told her, I said, "It ain't gonna hurt you." But then . . .
FZ: But then. But then.

Ow
Can you feel it now

You know what I'm talking about, Napi.
I'm comin' down in a minute . . .
I'm comin' down there
(Come on, down, come on!)

FZ: Ruth has got the lick alright. Go on, Ruth.
Ruth: Give the gong player some!
FZ: Give the— Give the gong player some. Now we're gonna continue on, we're just gonna melt away into another tune. This is a love song of sorts, you know, it's a little bit tweaked, but . . . it's one of those ones you gotta stick in the show somewhere there. Ready? One, two, three, four . . .

Ah-oh-oh-oh ah-oh-oh-oh ah-oh-oh-oh oh-oh

La-la la-la la-la la-la
Ba-la ba-la na-la

She was the daughter of a wealthy
Florentine Pogen
Read 'em 'n weep
Was her adjustable slogan

She was a debutante daisy
With a color-note organ
Deep in the street
She drove a '59 Morgan

WOO-LAH!

That's the kinda step she takes
When her hot breaks hot brakes
That's the kinda sound she makes
(ooh, let go uh me)
When her crab cakes

She didn't like it when her fan belt
Shrunk & got shorter
(Ointment)
Battery leaks could nearly cost her a quarter

She didn't want to go home
An' watch the pestle go mortar
Later she speaks
On how Perellis might court her

Marty's dog, na-na-hoo
Na-na-na, noo-na-hoo
Na-na-na, na-na-na!
Na-na-na, na-na-hoo

She was the daughter
Ah-ah-ahhh
Of a wealthy
Florentine Pogen
Po-oh-wo-oh-oh
Po-oh-wo-oh-oh
Po-oh-wo-oh-oh
Ga-ya-ee-annnn

Read 'em 'n weep
(Take a booger home with you to)
Read 'em 'n weep
(Take a booger home with you to)
Read 'em 'n weep

Ay-ay-ay-ay-ay-ay
Ah-ooh-ah-ooh-ah-ooh-ah-HAH
Ah-ooh-ah-ooh-ah-ooh-ah-HAH

Chester's go-rilla
She go oink
Chester's go-rilla
She go quack
Chester's go-rilla
She go moo
Chester's go-rilla
She go
Hratche-plche
Hratche-plche

FZ: Thank you. Chester's Gorilla was played by Marty Perellis.

(Well . . . )
Ahem. In the dark
Where all the fevers grow
Under the water (Yeah . . . )
Where the shark bubbles blow
In the mornin' (Mornin' . . .) (Well . . .)
By yer radio
Do the walls close in t' suffocate ya
You ain't got no friends . . .
An' all the others: they hate ya
Does the life you been livin' gotta go? Hmm?
Well, lemme straighten you out
About a place I know . . .
(Get yer shoes 'n socks on people,
It's right aroun' the corner,
Over by Tom Waits restaurant)
Out through the night
An' the whispering breezes
To the place where they keep
The Imaginary Diseases,
Out through the night
An' the whispering breezes
To the place where they keep
The Imaginary Diseases . . .

Now, ladies and gentlemen,
Scientists call this disease
Bromidrosis
But us regular folks
Who might wear tennis shoes
Or an occasional python boot
Know this exquisite little inconvenience
By the name of
(Now watch this):
STINK FOOT
(Yes, indeed.)
Y'know, my python boot is too tight
I couldn't get it off last night
A week went by, an' now it's July
I finally got it off
An' my girl-friend cry,
She said: "STINK FOOT!
STINK FOOT, darlin'
Your STINK FOOT puts the hurts on my nose!
STINK FOOT! STINK FOOT! I ain't lyin',
Can you rinse it off, d'you suppose?"
Here Fido . . . Here Fido . . .
Bring the slippers, little puppy . . .
That's a good dog!
"Arf, arf, arf!"
Sick . . .

FZ: Oh, that's enough of that!

Green hocker croakin'
In the Pygmy Twylyte

Crankin' an' a-coke'n
In the Winchell's do-nut Midnite

Out of his deep on a 'fore day run
Hurtin' for sleep in the Quaalude Moonlight

Green hocker in a Greyhound locker
Smokin' in the Pygmy Twylyte

Joined the bus, 33rd seat
Doo-doo room, reek replete

Crystal eye, crystal eye
Got a crystal kidney & he's fraid to die
In the Pygmy Twylyte
Downer midnite
Pygmy Twylyte
Downer midnite
Pygmy Twylyte
Downer midnite
Pygmy Twylyte
Downer midnite

Oh! Anybody,
Don't know why I feel
Oh! Sometimes the pain
Gets a little [...]
And I wanna say, Oh!

Honey, honey (blip)
Honey, honey (wart)
Honey, honey (gee)
Honey, honey
Why don't you sharpen that!

Honey, honey
Honey, honey
Honey, honey
Honey, honey

Oh, in the morning
In the evening
What you say
I said I joined the bus
Smokin' in the Pygmy Twylyte
Smokin' in the Pygmy Twylyte
Talkin' 'bout the downer Midnite
Smokin', smokin'
Smokin', smokin'
Smokin', smokin'
WAH!
Joined the bus on the 33rd seat
Joined the bus
Joined the bus on the 33rd seat
Joined the bus
Joined the bus
Joined the bus
Joined the bus

Doo-doo roo-ooh-oom
Doo-doo roo-ooh-oom
Doo-doo roo-ooh-oom
Doo-doo roo-ooh-oom
Doo-doo roo-ooh-oom (Right out front there's a)
Doo-doo roo-ooh-oom (Nearly a year ago there's a)
Doo-doo roo-ooh-oom (Wash your hands in the)
Doo-doo roo-ooh-oom (Everybody goin' to the)
Doo-doo roo-ooh-oom (Everybody goin' to)
Doo-doo roo-ooh-oom

FZ: Hello? Is this room service?
Napoleon: Room service! This is not only room service, this is your automatic and responsible doo-doo room service.
FZ: Good God, ain't it funky now? Look here, you know, do you realize how heavy these telephones are that we're holding?
Napoleon: Ah, do I realize!
FZ: I'll make a deal with ya, I'll put mine down if you put yours down.
George: Mental telepathy.
Napoleon: What would you like? What would you like? We got everything, what would you like?
FZ: You're sure that this is doo-doo room service, right?
Napoleon: This is doo-doo room service.
FZ: Alright.
Napoleon: Not just do-do room service, doo-doo room service.
FZ: Alright. I want you to understand one thing.
Napoleon: Go ahead.
FZ: You're talking to a hungry guy.
Napoleon: All you musicians are hungry, go on . . .
FZ: That's right. And so many of them eat.
Napoleon: There you go . . .
FZ: And there are the ones who don't eat, well, ladies and gentlemen, just focus on this one fact: I'm pretending to call room service right now at an imaginary hotel that we can't name because they don't sponsor our program, but there's still hope for them.
Napoleon: Humble, humble people . . .
FZ: However, ladies and gentlemen, just, just pretend that he's working in the kitchen and I'm up in my lonely little rock'n'roll musician's room . . .
Napoleon: Stop burning those beans!
FZ: Ha ha ha . . . stop burning those beans?
Napoleon: I'm in the kitchen, you know, you gotta control . . .
FZ: Why don't you sharpen it then?
Napoleon: Gotta control these pilgrims in the kitchen . . .
FZ: Okay.
Napoleon: . . . you know, they'll burn the beans.
FZ: Hello, is this room service? Look, I'm so hungry. I'm so hungry . . .
Napoleon: What would you like?
FZ: I want to eat.
Napoleon: Anything you want to eat, you can get it here.
FZ: I want a green hocker.
Napoleon: Let me write this down, one . . . green hocker.
FZ: In a Greyhound locker.
Napoleon: In a Greyhound locker. You musicians sure have some strange requests!
FZ: Yeah, well . . .
Napoleon: But doo-doo room service is here to please, go on.
FZ: That's right. I want a green hocker in a Greyhound locker . . .
Napoleon: One green hocker in a Greyhound locker . . .
FZ: Smokin'!
Napoleon: Smokin'!
FZ: In the Pygmy Twylyte . . . You do aim to please, don't you?
Napoleon: We burnin' that sucker up!
FZ: Ha ha ha . . . we's burnin' that sucker up! Listen to that!
Napoleon: It's a equal . . . you know this is a equal employment . . .
FZ: How you do go on!
Napoleon: Let me tell you. Is that all you want? You sure you don't want no meat?
FZ: No, no, listen . . .
Napoleon: Don't you want some meat? We serve meat.
FZ: Ha ha ha . . . No, I got some meat.
Napoleon: Wait a minute!
FZ: Here's the deal . . .
Napoleon: No, no . . . Don't. If you want the pygmy twylyte, it gotta be pork. You gotta take it the way it is.
FZ: I'll take it the way it is.
Napoleon: Ok.
FZ: I'm not worried about it.
Napoleon: Alright.
FZ: Now look, when you're musician you don't always have a choice, you know?
Napoleon: That's right!
FZ: Everybody else has got a stronger union, you know?
Napoleon: How often can we give a deli?
FZ: What can you say? If you were a teamster you wouldn't have these problems, you know?
Napoleon: This is true!
FZ: You know? But look here.
Napoleon: That's why I joined the musicians' union.
FZ: Local 47 bites the bag so bad, what can you say?
Napoleon: Brrrrrr . . .
FZ: I mean, it's no wonder you have to go out on the road and eat the stuff from doo-doo room service when you have a union that's so broke because they're so crooked that they shut down two out of— two out of five days a week!
Napoleon: What? You shouldn't talk about our room service unless you taste it first. You gotta taste it first.
FZ: Oh, well, I'm, I'm very anxious to taste it, however I'm not finished giving you my order. Okay?
Napoleon: Okay. What else would you like?
FZ: I want you to concentrate. Just let your mind drift back to the first part of the order, it's a green hocker in a Greyhound locker smokin' in the Pygmy Twylyte, and I want, I want to avoid the Garni Du Jour, I never eat the Garni Du Jour . . .
Napoleon: You don't?
FZ: No . . .
Napoleon: What about the dogs?
FZ: Now, listen.
Napoleon: They gotta eat.
FZ: I haven't told you about the dogs yet.
Napoleon: I saw you when you registered, don't tell me . . . caravan of dogs . . . oh, those were two boogers and one dog, I'm sorry.
FZ: The dogs did not register with me.
Napoleon: Oh, okay.
FZ: There's only one person the dogs register with.
Napoleon: I knew they were with your troop but I didn't know which one.
FZ: And he used to have a suit on, gorilla hair on it. Now look. I want to avoid the wrinkled carrot.
Napoleon: Okay, no wrinkled carrot.
FZ: No thin, wrinkled carrot, no celery, no . . .
Napoleon: No twisted celery . . .
FZ: No parsley.
Napoleon: No parsley.
FZ: No salad that's so soggy that you don't want to get near it.
Napoleon: No salad with Saran Wrap on top . . .
FZ: No. I don't want any styrofoam cups.
Napoleon: . . . to keep the flies . . . No styrofoam cups . . .
FZ: I don't want any styrofoam knives and forks.
Napoleon: No paper plate.
FZ: No, no paper plates.
Napoleon: Man, we gonna serve you on China, this jive gonna be on genuine China.
FZ: I must have come to the right hotel this time.
Napoleon: Doo-doo room service. Anything you need, we here to please.
FZ: During the last, during the last show the room service wasn't quite this good, but I know that I'm really gonna get it this time. Now, look . . .
Napoleon: Well, we try hard— We do try harder, you know.
FZ: Along with the green hocker in the Greyhound locker smoking in the Pygmy Twylyte, I would like to have a crystal eye . . .
Napoleon: One crystal eye.
FZ: A crystal eye (that's two crystal eyes) . . .
Napoleon: One more crystal eye.
FZ: That's right. And a crystal kidney.
Napoleon: And one crystal kidney. You know that's just about like liver, you know, but shinin' though.
FZ: Yeah.
Napoleon: Yeah, you know. So if you want it . . .
FZ: Yeah, I want it!
Napoleon: Alright, where do you want us to bring it to?
FZ: Sure I want it. I don't want you to be burnin' that sucker up, though.
Napoleon: Wait a minute. You said you wanted to smoke it . . .
FZ: No, not the kidney.
Napoleon: Oh, okay.
FZ: Now, okay, I want you send this to room 3-3.
Napoleon: Room 3-3. That's right after f-four. 4-4.
FZ: No. 4-4 is somebody else.
Napoleon: Ah, okay. 3-3.
FZ: That's Chester's room.
Napoleon: Ha ha . . . I must be in 4-5, then, and Duke must be in 4-3. Ha ha ha!
FZ: Ha ha ha!
Napoleon: The way Marty registers all the Orientals in this group . . . Here we go . . .
FZ: Look . . . Yeah, would you be able to recognize me, I'm in room 3-3, and I'm right next to room 3-4.
Napoleon: Alright!
FZ: And 3-4 is the room that's got the smell of the dog coming out of it.
Napoleon: Well, I know he won't miss that.
FZ: Okay.
Napoleon: The person I'm sending up is familiar with that odor. Yes he is!
FZ: You know . . . ha ha, why? Because he's from Baltimore?
Napoleon: NO! Because he has a little beard and his office is in the Motown building and on and on and on, well, you know.
FZ: You're trying to tell me that this guy is so swift that my order is gonna get up there right away?
Napoleon: They call him Slick for short.
FZ: Slick for short?
Napoleon: When he don't have shorts, they still call him Slick.
FZ: Okay, well, I want you to send him up, because I sure am hungry.
Napoleon: Listen here, matter of fact, so you won't get the wrong guy, I'm gonna tell who we gonna be sendin' up, you know we're gonna send up to you with your fabulous order up to your room . . .

Zach, Zach, Zach Glickman
(Drivin' a little puny car)
Zach, Zach, Zach Glickman
(He knows how to dial a phone real good)
Zach, Zach, Zach Glickman
(He's the kind of guy you'd call your friend)
Zach, Zach, Zach Glickman
(But sometimes he's a drag)

FZ: Hello, room service?
Napoleon: Yes?
FZ: Look here, I want you to dummy up, because my food ain't got here yet, you know?
Napoleon: Is this room 3-3?
FZ: It's room 3-3, you know, next to three . . .
Napoleon: Your food didn't get there?
FZ: No, it never got here. That guy from Baltimore that you sent up just didn't make it, you know?
Napoleon: It's a case of bad judgement, I'll try better this time.
FZ: Yeah, ha ha . . . Listen, I'm gonna get very angry with you. I'm gonna, I'm going to call Herb if the food doesn't come right away.
Napoleon: Hey, ah . . . yeah, as a matter of fact, I tell you what we can do, ha ha . . . so we make sure your food does get there, and that you don't get any advances, and for that matter, so you don't get too much food for the price you're paying. You know who we're gonna send the food up by?
FZ: No, who you're gonna send the food up by?
Napoleon: We're gonna send the food up by the one and only . . . this cat, Herb!

Cohen
(You know, he got a little hair on his head)
Herb, Herb, Herb Cohen
(Kinda cute when he curls it, you know)
Herb, Herb, Herb Cohen
(Walks around and says, "No advances!")
Herb, Herb, Herb Cohen
(What you gonna do?)

FZ: You know the food finally got here and uh . . .
Napoleon: Alright. I knew I could depend on him, you know . . . because he's got it down to the . . . hundredths of a second.
FZ: Yeah, I know, Herb does have it down to the hundredths of a second. Well, you know, I think we've exhausted the possibilities of this routine. Do you suggest we end the song?
Napoleon: Either that or get Mort up here to dance, I mean, you know . . .
FZ: Oh, wait a minute. Mort, come here. Mort, come on.
Napoleon: Come on, come on, Mort.
FZ: Now, look, you can fill out the AFTRA contract later . . .
Napoleon: Don't be bashful. Don't be bashful, Mort.
FZ: Ladies and gentlemen, I want to introduce you to, this is Mort Libov. Mort Libov, de la Baltimore, who is the producer of the show, and he would like to sing to you right now . . .
Napoleon: Yeah! Ha ha ha ha ha! Well . . . well . . .
George: Well . . . well . . .
FZ: Good God, ain't it funky now! I'll tell you what, hey, I'll make it easy.
Napoleon: Gimme that wine, oh, gimme that wine, gimme that . . .
FZ: We're gonna make it easy on you, Mort. All you have to do is sing your own name on the off beats. You ready?
Mort: You gonna do it with me?

Mort, Mort, Mort Libov
Mort, Mort, Mort Libov
Mort, Mort, Mort Libov
Mort, Mort, Mort Libov

Napoleon: Hire him! Hire him!
FZ: An instant superstar!
Napoleon: Put that sucker in the band! Put that sucker in the band!
FZ: If this show ever goes on television, and if this show ever galls . . . if it ever galls to Arbutus, if it ever goes to Baltimore, if it ever goes to Havre de Grace, to all those fine places, I want all the people in that WRETCHED state of Maryland to understand one thing: Mort's from there, Marty's from there, Zack is from there, Chester's from there, and I'm from there too.
Napoleon: What can I tell you?

Did a vehicle
Come from somewhere out there
Just to land in the Andes?
Was it round
And did it have
A motor
Or was it
Something
Different

George: Sure was different. I ain't never seen nothing like that in my entire life!
Napoleon: Whose python boot is that? That ain't my sh— What?
FZ: Why don't you sharpen it then?

George: Little round ball . . . I could . . . couldn't . . . That white cain't do nothin'
Napoleon: Je-he-zus! Wait a minute!
FZ: Mother Mary and Jozuf!

Did a vehicle
Did a vehicle
Did a vehicle
Fly along the mountains
And find a place to park itself
Park it
Se-e-e-elf
(PARK IT . . . PARK IT)

Or did someone
Build a place
To leave a space
For such a thing to land

Did a vehicle
Come from somewhere out there
Did a vehicle come
From somewhere out there
Did the Indians, first on the bill
Carve up the hill

Did a booger-bear
Come from somewhere out there
Just to land on Perellis?
Was she round
And did she have a motor
Or was she something different

Guacamole Queen
Guacamole Queen
Guacamole Queen

At the Armadillo in Austin Texas, her aura,
Or did someone build a place
Or leave a space for Chester's Thing to land
(Chester's Thing . . . on Ruth)
Did a booger-bear
Come from somewhere out there
Did a booger-bear
Come from somewhere out there
Did the Indians, first on the bill
Carve up her hill
On Ruth
On Ruth
That's Ruth

FZ: Thank you very much.

Oh no
I don't believe it
You say that you think you know
The meaning of love
You say love is all we need
You say
With your love you can change
All of the fools
All of the hate
I think you're probably
Out to lunch

Oh no
I don't believe it
You say that you think you know
The meaning of love
Do you really think it can be told?
You say that you really know
I think
You should check it again
How can you say
What you believe
Will be the key to a
World of love?

All your love
Will it save me?
All your love
Will it save the world
From what we can't understand?
Oh no
I don't believe it

And in your dreams
You can see yourself
As a prophet
Saving the world
The words from your lips
(WHY DON'T YOU SHARPEN IT THEN!)
I just can't believe you are such
A fool

I just can't believe
You are such a fool
I just can't believe
You are such a fool
I just can't believe
You are such a fool
I just can't believe
You are such a fool

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 a-waitin'
I'm hopin' for the best
Even think I'll go to prayin'
Every time I hear 'em sayin'
There's no way to delay
That trouble comin' every day
There's no way to delay
That trouble comin' every day

Wednesday I watched the riot
I seen the cops out on the street
I watched 'em throwin' rocks & stuff & chokin'
In the heat
I listen to reports
'Bout the whisky passin' around
I seen the smoke & fire
And the market burnin' down
I watched while everybody
On his street would take a turn
To stomp & smash & bash & crash & slash & bust & burn
I'm a-watchin' and I'm a-waitin'
Hopin' for the best
Even think I'll go to prayin'
Every time I hear 'em sayin'
There's no way to delay
That trouble comin' every day
There's no way to delay
That trouble comin' every day

FZ: Ladies and gentlemen, this is the end of our program. We wanna thank you very much for coming down to the studio, helping us out with it. Before we disappear I'd like to say it has been Ruth Underwood on percussion, Napoleon Murphy Brock on tenor sax, lead vocals and exotic dancing, Tom Fowler on bass and snuff, Chester Thompson on drums and gorilla, and George Duke on keyboards and finger cymbals. Thank you very much, and goodnight.