Buffalo

FZ: Hi! Welcome to the show tonight, ladies and gentlemen. Hope you're in the mood for a good time. You'd better be. Let me introduce you to everybody. Ike Willis on guitar and vocals. Tommy Mars on keyboards and vocals. Steve Vai on guitar and vocals. Vinnie Colaiuta on drums, vitamin pills and rhythmic encyclopedia. Arthur Barrow on bass and vocals. Bob Harris on keyboards, trumpet and tiny weeny little high vocals. Ray White on guitar and vocals. Not bad! This guy is wearing a shirt that says, "Lick me, my 10th Zappa concert." Alright. Well I'm not going to lick you but maybe she will. Go on, lick him. No, a little lower, a little lower. Go for it. It's the real world. And I know that you're all intimately acquainted with the real world, otherwise you wouldn't be here, so . . . let's get on with it. Listen— Oh! "Fuck the draft!" Of course, turn it around and put the spotlight on that sign. Stand up and show it to the rest of the audience. Can we get the spotlight down there? My sentiments exactly. Ah, no, thanks. Okay, you're ready?

One, two . . .

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

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

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

A foolish young man
Of the Negro Persuasion
Devoted his life
To become a caucasian
He stopped eating pork
He stopped eating greens
He traded his dashiki
("Uhuru!")
For some Jordache Jeans
He learned to play golf
An' he got a good score
Now he says to himself
"I AIN'T NO NIGGER NO MORE . . . HEY! UH! HEY!"

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

Who is who
'N what is what
'N why is this
Appropriot
If you don't like
What you has got
Drop it in the dirt
'N let it rot
Someone else
Will surely come
'N pick it up
'Cause he wants some
And when one day
You wonder who
You used to was
'N what you do
You'll scratch your head
'N look around
But what you lost
Will not be found

Do you know what you are?
You are what you is
You is what you am
A cow don't make a ham
You ain't what you're not
So see what you got
You are what you is
An' that's all it is
YOU ARE WHAT YOU IS
(Aaa-aah)
AND THAT'S ALL IT IS
(Ooo-ooh)
YOU ARE WHAT YOU IS
(Aaa-aah)
AN THAT'S ALL IT IS
(Ooo-ooh)
YOU ARE WHAT YOU IS
(Aaa-aah)
AN THAT'S ALL IT IS
(Ooo-ooh)
YOU ARE WHAT YOU IS
(Aaa-aah)
AN THAT'S ALL IT IS

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

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

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

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

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

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

Try it on a Saturday about four o'clock in the mornin'
Or even on a Monday at midnight
When there's just a few of them
Fabulous Poodles
Doin' the Peppermint Twist for real
In a black sack dress with nine inch heels
And then a guy with a blue mohawk comes in
In Serious Leather . . .
(And all the rest of whom for which
To whensonever of partially indeterminate
Bio-chemical degradation
Seek the path to the sudsy yellow nozzle
Of their foaming nocturnal
Parametric whole-wheat inter-faith
Geo-thermal terpsichorean ejectamenta)
In Serious Leather . . .
In Serious Chains
In Serious Types Of Clothing
From when they come downtown
From the ruins of Studio '54
To twist 'n frugg
In an arrogant gesture
To the best of what the 20th Century has to offer
And I do mean offer
At the Mudd Club

Now, listen
Al Malkin is down there right now,
Looking for a virgin with nice breath . . .
(Maybe it's you, John . . .
And you don't even know it!)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Mystery Man came over
An' he said: "I'm outa-site!"
He said, for a nominal service charge,
I could reach nervonna t'nite
If I was ready, willing 'n able
To pay him his regular fee
He would drop all the rest of his pressing affairs
And devote His Attention to me
But I said . . .
Look here brother,
Who you jivin' with that Cosmik Debris?
(Now who you jivin' with that Cosmik Debris?)
Look here brother,
Don't you waste your time on me

The Mystery Man got nervous
An' he fidget around a bit
He reached in the pocket of his Mystery Robe
An' he whipped out a shaving kit
Now, I thought it was a razor
An' a can of foamin' goo
But I told him right then when the top popped open
There was nothin' his box won't do
With the oil of Afro-dytee
An' the dust of the Grand Wazoo
He said:
"You might not believe this, little fella, but it'll cure your Asthma too!"
An' I said . . .
Look here brother,
Who you jivin' with that Cosmik Debris?
(Now what kind of a geroo are you anyway?)
Look here brother,
Don't you waste your time on me
That's right, don't waste yer time . . .

I've got troubles of my own, I said
An' you can't help me out
So take your meditations an' your preparations
An' ram it up yer snout
"BUT I GOT A KRISTL BOL!," he said
An' held it on up to the light
So I snatched it
All away from him
An' I showed him how to do it right
I wrapped a newspaper 'round my head
So I'd look like I was Deep
Said some Mumbo Jumbos then
I told him he was goin' to sleep
I robbed his rings
An' his pocket watch
An' everything else I found
Shit, I had that sucker hypnotized
He couldn't even make a sound
I proceeded to tell him his future then
As long as he was hanging around,
I said
"The price of meat has just gone up
An' yer ol' lady has just gone down . . . "
Look here brother,
Who you jivin' with that Cosmik Debris?
(Now is that a real poncho or is that a Sears poncho? Huh?)
Don't you know,
You could make more money as a butcher,
So don't you waste your time on me
(Don't waste it, don't waste your time on me . . . )
Ohm shonty, ohm shonty, ohm shonty-ohm

FZ: Thank you!

Keep it greasey so it'll go down easy
Keep it greasey so it'll go down easy
Keep it greasey so it'll go down easy

Roll it over 'n grease it down
I'll drive you through the heart of town

Keep it greasey so it'll go down easy
Keep it greasey so it'll go down easy
Keep it greasey so it'll go down easy

Roll it over 'n grease it down
I'll drive you through the heart of town

Hey, all the good women, they sure has it tough
The good men, well there just ain't enough
All the good girls are lookin' all the time
Good men is something that they can't find
But if they find one miraculously
They try to be lovin' as they can be
But if they find one and let him go
Chances are they might not never find one no mo'
So they . . .

Keep it greasey so it'll go down easy
Keep it greasey so it'll go down easy
Keep it greasey so it'll go down easy

Roll it over 'n grease it down
I'll drive you through the heart of town

A good lovin' man is hardest to find
A good woman needs to ease her mind
And I know a few that need to ease it behind
All y'gotta do is grease it down
'N everything is fine

Keep it greasey so it'll go down easy
Keep it greasey so it'll go down easy
Keep it greasey so it'll go down easy

Roll it over 'n grease it down
I'll drive you through the heart of town

A girl don't need
No fancy grease
To get herself
Some rump release
Any kind
Of lube'll do
Maybe from another
Part of you
Lube from the North
Lube from the South
Take a little slobber
From the side of your mouth
From your mouth
From your mouth
From your mouth
From your mouth
Roll it over
Grease it down
Here come that crazy
Screamin' sound . . .

Aaah . . . ah-ah-a-aah
(Come on, sing along!)
Aaah . . . ah-ah-a-aah
Aaah . . . ah-ah-a-aah
(Oh nooo!)
Aaah . . . ah-ah-a-aah

Keep it greasey so it'll go down easy
Keep it greasey so it'll go down easy
Keep it greasey so it'll go down easy
Roll it over 'n grease it down (DOWN), down (DOW-HOWN), down (DOW-HOW-HOWN)
Grease it dow-how-hown . . .
Oh no! Here comes that screamin' sound again . . .

FZ: Thank you! This is a song about the punk bands that come from Los Angeles.

From Madam Wong's to Starwood
To the Whiskey on the Strip
You can hear the crashing, blasting strum
Of bands that come to be real hip
And get a record contract
From a talent scout some day
They'll sell their ass, their cocks and balls
They'll take the check 'n walk away
If they're lucky they'll get famous
For a week or two perhaps
They'll buy some ugly clothes to wear
And hope the business don't collapse
Before some stupid magazine
Decides they're really good
They're a Tinsel Town Rebellion Band
From downtown Hollywood

Tinsel Town Rebellion,
Tinsel Town Rebellion Band
Tinsel Town Rebellion,
Tinsel Town Rebellion Band

They used to play all kinds of stuff
And some of it was nice
Some of it was musical
But then they took this guy's advice
To get a record deal, he said,
They'd have to be more punk
Forget their chops and play real dumb
Or else they would be sunk
So off they go to S.I.R. to learn some stupid riffs
And practice all their poses
In between their powder sniffs

Chop a line now

And when they think they've got it
They launch a new career
Who gives a fuck if what they play
Is somewhat insincere

Tinsel Town Rebellion,
Tinsel Town Rebellion Band
Tinsel Town Rebellion,
Tinsel Town Rebellion Band
In Tinsel Town the people there
They think substance is a bore
And if your New Wave group looks good
They'll hurry on back for more
Of leather groups and plastic groups
And groups that act real queer
The Tinsel Town aficionados
Come to see and not to hear
But then again this system works
As perfect as a dream
It works for all of those record company pricks
Who come to skim the cream
From the cesspools of excitement
Where Jim Morrison once stood
It's the Tinsel Town Rebellion
From downtown Hollywood

There is a ship arriving too late
To save a drowned-ing kind of a witch
She was swimmin' along
Tryin' to keep a date
With a Merchant Marine
Who told her he was really rich
But it doesn't matter no more . . .
She's on the ocean floor
'N the water's all green down there
'N it's not very clean down there
'N the pointed hat
Well she's got water in that
'N water snakes
'N rusty wrecks
Is all that she can see
As the light goes dim
And she's tryin' to swim
Will she make it?
(Boy, we sure hope so . . . )

Not even a witch oughta be caught
On the bottom of America's spew-infested
Waterways
She could get radiation all over her
She could mutate insanely . . .
And then if she ever got out of the liquid entrapment
She could grow to be 15 feet tall
And scary-lookin'
Even more so than a pre-moistened witch oughta be
And then she might go on the freeway
She could cause accidents
While people looked at her
Cars could crash all over the place
From the result of people with Hawaiian shirts on . . .
Lookin' up to see her face
With seaweed and urchins
Emphasizing her cheekbones
Wow! She can really be ugly and scary looking

Sardines in her eyebrows . . .
Lobsters up 'n down her forehead
All of them TERRIBLY LARGE FROM RADIATION . . .
And DANGEROUS!
And smelling very bad

I don't know
Maybe it's better if she stays in the water
And a submarine could save her,
And take her home to the Navy . . .
For some kind of
Ritual sacrifice . . .

Honey honey, hey
Baby don't you want a man like me
Honey honey, hey
Baby don't you want a man like me

He was the Playboy Type (he smoked a pipe)
His fav'rite phrase was "OUTA-SITE!"
He had an Irish Setter
(Ah, bejeezus, here we go again)

It was a singles bar . . .
Wait a minute, let's do that part again . . .
It was a singles bar . . .
Da-da-dah . . . the band was tight
They did the Bump together

What a splendid sight
(Roon doon doon doon)
Her teeth were white
(Oo-ooh ah-ooh)
The drinks were cheap (it was Ladies Nite)
He was glad that he met her

She was an office girl ("My name is Betty")
Her fav'rite group was HELEN REDDY
(They discussed-ed the weather)

Honey honey, hey
Baby don't you want a man like me
Honey honey, hey
Baby don't you want a man like me
Honey honey, hey
Baby don't you want a
Baby don't you want a
Baby don't you want a
Man!

She was a lonely sort, just a little too short
Her jokes were dumb and her fav'rite sport
Was hockey (in the winter)

He was duly impressed and was quick to suggest
Any sport with a PUCK . . .
Why can't I remember the words of this song?
He was duly impressed and was quick to suggest
Any sport with a PUCK had to be 'bout the best
As he jabbed his elbow in her

Later on they went off to where the music was soft,
The candles were drippy, they saw a REAL HIPPY
Who delivered their dinner

The rice was brown, and soon they found
That the crowd around that had jammed the room,
Well it seemed to be getting thinner

Honey honey, hey
Baby don't you want a man like me
Honey honey, hey
Baby don't you want a man like me
Honey honey, hey
Baby don't you want a
Baby don't you want a
Baby don't you want a
Man!

He took her home to a motor court
Tried to kiss her . . . (tried to ignore it)
Wait a minute, no . . .
No, no, I got it backwards
He took her home to a motor court
She tried to kiss . . . (mumble-mumble)
(Wouldn't kiss him)
(Yeah)
And it made him angry!
(I got so damn mad I could have grabbed that [unintelligible])

He called her a . . .
And she slammed the door
(The door!)
In a petulant frenzy!
(A petulant frenzy!
This is a petulant
Frenzy!
I'm petulant,
And I'm having a frenzy!)

On the sofa she weeps
BOO HOO HOO HOO
She weeps and she weeps
BOO HOO HOO HOO HOO HOO
She weeps and she peeps
Through the curtain

He just got in his car
But the battery's dead
So he asked to use the phone
And she gives him some head
And that's the end of the story

Ooh! Atlantis!

Honey honey, hey
Baby don't you want a man like me
Honey honey, hey
Baby don't you want a man like me
Honey honey, hey
Baby don't you want a
Baby don't you want a
Baby don't you want a
Man!
Baby don't you want a man sometimes?

Why not come over?
You'll meet my mother
You'll meet my sister
You'll like my brother
Really you will . . .
Yeah!

I'm learning English
I can say "thank you"
I think I like you
Do you like my band-aid?
I hope you do . . .

I am not busy
I'm free to travel
Where are you going?
Maybe you'll take me
I hope you do . . .

Do you know Vinnie?
He used to like me
I speak good English
I'm bathing with Peter
Pick me, I'm clean . . .

Vinnie goes bare-back
Peter goes wet-back
Denny goes way back
Eddie should get back
Pick me I'm clean . . .

Oh yeah, pick me I'm clean
Oh yeah, check out my band-aid
Oh yeah, pick me I'm clean
Oh yeah, check out my band-aid
Oh yeah, pick me I'm clean
Oh yeah, check out my band-aid
Oh yeah, pick me I'm clean
Oh yeah . . .

Why not come over?
You'll meet my mother
You'll meet my sister
You'll like my brother
Really you will . . .

I'm learning English
I can say "thank you"
I think I like you
Do you like my band-aid?
I hope you do . . .

I am not busy
I'm free to travel
Where are you going?
Maybe you'll take me
I hope you do . . .

Do you know Vinnie?
He used to like me
I speak good English
I'm bathing with Peter
Pick me, I'm clean . . .

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

Come on, Dempsey!

You see 'em dancin' at the Disco
Every night like a bunch of little robot queens
Makin' little noises full of fake 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 Bon Jour frame of mind

Bon Jour!
Bon Jour!
Bon Jour!
Bon Jour!
Bon Jour!
Bon Jour!
Bon Jour!
Bon Jour!
Bon Jour!
Bon Jour!
Bon Jour!
Bon Jour!
Bon Jour!
Bon Jour!
Bon Jour!
Bon Jour!

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, ou-ou-ou-ou-ount

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 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?
Yes we will ever more
(Yes we will ever more)

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

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 lightnin'
In the storm
Tiny pillows, tiny blankets, yeah
Gonna keep, keep, keep you so warm
Tiny pillows
Tiny tiny tiny tiny tiny tiny tiny sheets
Talkin' bout them tiny cookies
That the peoples eats
Oh, city of tiny lites
Maybe, maybe you should know

And it's over there
Well, and It's over there
Said, and It's over there
Well, and It's over there

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
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 was so easy
Easy
I saw her tiny titties
Shooh her tee-shooh . . . ha ha!
I saw her tiny titties
Shooh her . . .
I saw her tiny titties
Through her see-through blouse
Just had to take the girl to my house
Easy
Meat

Ain't got no heart
I ain't got no heart to give away
I sit and laugh at fools in love
There ain't no such thing as love
(Ha ha ha!)
No angels singing up above today

Girl I don't believe
Girl I don't believe in what you say
You say your heart is only mine
I say to you, you must be blind
What makes you think that you're so fine
That I would throw away
The groovy life I lead
'Cause baby, what you've got, yeah
It sure ain't what I need

Girl you'd better go
Girl you'd better go away
I think that life with you would be
Just not quite the thing for me
Why is it so hard to see my way

Why should I be stuck with you
(Stuck with you)
It's just not what I want to do
(Want to do)
Why should an embrace or two
(Embrace or two)
Make me such a part of you
(Part of you)
I ain't got no heart to give away
Away
No no no no no no no
Ain't got no heart
Ain't got no heart
I ain't got no heart to give away

FZ: Thank you!

Flies all green 'n buzzin' in his dungeon of despair
Prisoners grumble and piss their clothes and scratch their matted hair
A tiny little light from a window hole a hundred yards away
Is all they ever get to know about the regular life in the day;
An' it stinks so bad the stones been chokin'
'N weepin' greenish drops
In the room where the giant fire puffer works
'N the torture never stops
The torture never stops
The torture
The torture
The torture never stops

Slime 'n rot, rats 'n snot 'n vomit on the floor
Fifty ugly soldiers holdin' spears by the iron door
Knives 'n spikes 'n guns 'n the likes of every tool of pain
An' a sinister little midget with a bucket an' a mop
A sinister little midget with a bucket an' a mop
A sinister tiny little midget with a bucket an' a mop
Where the blood goes down the drain;
An' it stinks so bad the stones been chokin'
'N weepin' greenish drops
In the room where the giant fire puffer works
'N the torture never stops
The torture never stops
The torture
The torture
The torture never stops

Flies all green 'n buzzin'
In his dungeon of despair
An evil kind of a prince
Eats a steamin' kind of a pig
In a chamber right near there
He eats
The snouts 'n the trotters first
The loins 'n the groins are soon dispersed
His carvin' style is well rehearsed
He stands and shouts
All men be cursed
All men be cursed
All men be cursed
And disagree, well let me tell you, no-one durst
He's the best of course of all the worst
(He's the best of course of all the worst)
Some wrong been done, he done it first
(Some wrong been done, he done it first)
An' he stinks so bad, his bones been chokin'
'N weepin' greenish drops,
In the night of the iron sausage,
Where the torture never stops
The torture never stops
The torture
The torture
The torture never stops

Flies all green 'n buzzin' in his dungeon of despair
Who are all these people that he's locked away down there
Are they crazy?
Are they sainted?
Are they zeros someone painted?
Well, it's never been explained since at first it was created
But a dungeon just like a sin
Requires naught but lockin' in
Of everything that's ever been
Look at her
Look at him
That's what's the deal we're dealing in
That's what's the deal we're dealing in
That's what's the deal we're dealing in
That's what's the deal we're dealing in

Hey! Do you know what you are?
You're an asshole! ASSHOLE!

Some of you might not agree
'Cause you probably likes a lot of misery
But think a while and you will see . . .
Broken hearts are for assholes
Broken hearts are for assholes
Are you an asshole?
Broken hearts are for assholes
Are you an asshole too?
Whatcha gonna do, 'cause you're an asshole . . .

No no no, yeah yeah yeah
I said
You . . . are . . . an ASSHOLE!

Maybe you think you're a lonely guy
'N maybe you think you're too tough to cry
So you went to The Grape,
Just to give it a try
And Dagmar
Was his name . . .
The whiskers sticking out from underneath of his Pancake make-up
Nearly drove you insane
And so you kissed a little sailor
Who had just blew in from Spain
You pulled the chain attached to the permanently-erected nipples of Jimmy
In a bold salute to pain
You sniffed the reeking buns of Angel
And acted like it was cocaine
You were dazzled by the exciting new costume of Ko-Ko
In a way you can't explain
And so you worked the wall with Michael
Which gave your back an awful strain
But you came back on Sunday for the gong show
But you forgot what I was sayin'
'Cause you're an asshole, you're an asshole
That's right
You're an asshole, you're an asshole
That's right
You're an asshole, you're an asshole
That's right
You're an asshole, you're an asshole

Well, you been to The Grape, you been to The Chest
Now I think you know what you are: you're an asshole
Asshole

You say you can't live with what you've been through
Well, ladies you can be an asshole too
You might pretend you ain't got one on the bottom of you
But don't fool yerself girl
It's lookin' at you
Don't fool yerself girl
It's winkin' at you
Don't fool yerself girl
It's blinkin' at you
That's why I say
I'm gonna ram it, ram it, ram it
Ram it up yer poop chute
(Corn hole)
Ram it, ram it, ram it
Ram it up yer poop chute
(Fist fuck)
Ram it, ram it, ram it
Ram it up yer poop chute
(Wrist-watch: Crisco)
Ram it, ram it, ram it
Ram it up yer poop chute
(Ah!)
Don't fool yerself, girl,
It's goin' right up yer poop chute
Don't fool yerself, girl,
It's goin' right up yer poop chute
Don't fool yerself, girl,
It's goin' right up yer poop chute
(Ay ay ay ay)
Don't fool yerself, girl,
It's goin' right up yer poop chute
(Ay ay ay ay)
Don't fool yerself, girl,
It's goin' right up yer poooop chute
(Ay ay ay ay ay ay ay ay)
Don't fool yerself, girl,
It's goin' right up yer . . .

Aw, I knew you'd be surprised . . .

One Two Three Four!

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

Everybody
See my hair
See my clothes
I'm sure you care
Vinnie C
Is really neat
Watch the way he eat the beat
Sweet as honey
He's a piece of cake
Full of starch and sausage
As he did bake
Vitamin pills
He never takes
Watch him while his glasses break
Glasses break
Glasses break
They must be fake

Step aside
I wanna stride
I'm gonna strut
I'm gonna slide
Hey, ugly folks,
Go get some cyanide
An' die
DIE DIE DIE DIE

A-ren-nen-nen-ah-ren-nen-nen
A-ren-nen-nen-uh-rennda
A-ren-nen-nen-ah-ren-nen-nen
A-rennda-rennda-rahhh
A-ren-nen-nen-ah-ren-nen-nen
A-ren-nen-nen-uh-rennda
A-ren-nen-nen-ah-ren-nen-nen
A-rennda-rennda-rahhh
A-ren-nen-nen-ah-ren-nen-nen
A-ren-nen-nen-uh-rennda
A-ren-nen-nen-ah-ren-nen-nen
A-rennda-rennda-rahhh
A-ren-nen-nen-ah-ren-nen-nen
A-ren-nen-nen-uh-rennda
A-ren-nen-nen-ah-ren-nen-nen
A-rennda-rennda-rahhh

Ugly is bad
Bad is wrong
Wrong is sinful
And sin leads to eternal damnation
An' hot burnin' fire
Hot burnin' fire
Hot burnin' fire
Hot burnin' fire
Screams of agony
Screams of agony
Screams of agony
Screams of agony
Arrrrrrghhhhhhh!
Ah . . . Ah . . . Ah . . .

Is there anything good inside of you
If there is, I really wanna know
Is there anything
Good inside of you
If there is
I really wanna
Know
Is there anything
Good inside of you
If there is
I really wanna
Know
Is there?

Is there any-thaaaang good inside of you
If there is, I really wanna know-woh-oh-oh-oh—
Is there any-thaaaang good inside of you
If there is, I really wanna, really wanna know . . .

Something
Anything
Something
Anything

Show me a sign
If you don't mind
Show me a sign
If you don't mind
Show me a sign
If you don't mind
Show me a sign
If you don't mind

Do you know what I'm really telling you
Is it something that you can understand
Do you know what I'm really telling you
Is it something that you can understand
Do you know what I'm really telling you
Is it something that you can understand
Do you know what I'm really telling you
Is it something that you can understand

Andy de vine (de vine)
Had a thong rind (rind)
It was sublime (sublime)
But the wrong kind
Andy de vine (de vine)
Had a thong rind (rind)
It was sublime (sublime)
But the wrong kind

Have I aligned
With a blown mind
Wasted my time
On a drawn blind
Have I aligned
With a blown mind
Wasted my time
On a drawn blind

Oh Andy . . .
Andy
Andy, Andy
A thong rind
It was sublime, now y'all
But the wrong kind, ah-hah-hah-hah!
Come on now
Yeah yeah yeah yeah
Hey yeah

FZ: Ike, Tommy, Steve, Vinnie, Arthur, Bob, Ray. Thanks for coming to the show. Hope you enjoyed it. Good night.

FZ: Ready?

One, two, three, four . . .

It wasn't very large
There was just enough room to cram the drums
In the corner over by the Dodge
It was a fifty-four
With a mashed up door
And a cheesy little amp
With a sign on the front said
"Fender Champ"
And a second-hand guitar
It was a Stratocaster with a whammy bar

We could jam in Joe's Garage
His mama was screamin'
His dad was mad
We was playin' the same old song
In the afternoon 'n sometimes we would
Play it all night long
It was all we knew, 'n easy too
So we wouldn't get it wrong
Even if you played it on a saxophone

We thought we was pretty good
We talked about keepin' the band together
'N we figured that we should
'Cause about this time we was gettin' the eye
From the girls in the neighborhood
They'd all come over 'n dance around like . . .

So we picked out a stupid name
Had some cards printed up for a coupla bucks
'N we was on our way to fame
Got matching suits
'N Beatle Boots
'N a sign on the back of the car
'N we was ready to work in a GO-GO Bar
ONE TWO THREE FOUR
LET'S SEE IF YOU'VE GOT SOME MORE!

People seemed to like our song
They got up 'n danced 'n made a lotta noise
An' it wasn't 'fore very long
A guy from a company we can't name
Said we oughta take his pen
'N sign on the line for a real good time
But he didn't tell us when
These "good times" would be somethin'
That was really happenin'
So the band broke up
An' it looks like
We will never play again . . .

Guess you only get one chance in life
To play a song that goes like . . .

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
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
Dancin' fool
(Dancin' fool)
Dancin' fool
The beat goes on
But I'm so wrong
(Wrong)
Well, the beat goes on
But I'm so wrong
(Wrong)
The beat goes on but I'm so wrong
The beat goes on but I'm so wrong
The beat goes on but I'm so wrong
The beat goes on but 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
Yowsa, yowsa, yowsa

I got it all together now
With my very own disco clothes, hey!
My shirt's half open, t'show you my chain
'N the spoon for up my nose
I am really somethin'
That's what you'd probably say
So smoke your little smoke
Drink your little drink
While I dance the night away, I'm a
Dancin' fool, I'm a
Dancin' fool, I'm a
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' . . . can I buy you a drink?
(Ki-ni-shinai!)
What's a girl like you doin' in a tampoon-encrusted place like this?
(Ki-ni-shinai!)
Do you come here often?
(Ki-ni-shinai!)
And if so, WHY?
(Ki-ni-shinai!)
Wait a minute . . . I've got it . . . you're an Italian!
(Ki-ni-shinai!)
What?
Yer Jewish?
Love your nails . . .
You must be a Libra . . .
(Ki-ni-shinai!)
Your place or mine?

You know, you've heard those lines so many times. You go into a disco and you hear these people sitting around, desperately trying to get a little action. Now, isn't it DISGUSTING the things that people will say to each other when all they wanna do is just ga— get down to a little wholesome POOCHING after the event.

Now, ladies and gentlemen, I think that it's only fair, since th— the theme of our show tonight has been The Real World, that we make an earnest effort to deal with these problems in a FORTHRIGHT MANNER. You know what I mean?

So look, I know that you— you're gonna leave this place eventually and you're gonna go and maybe you'll go someplace—you might even go to a disco kind of a place, I know how you are—and when you go in there, you're gonna—yes, you will, I know you will. He will! And so will she. 'Cause I've seen 'em there. But when you go there, I know what you're going to do . . .

You're gonna walk in
You're gonna check it out a couple of times
You're gonna walk over to the bar
To see if there's any immediate grunt type action over there
And if there's not
You're gonna spin around a couple of times
And look kind of nonchalant
Then you're gonna look around the room to see if there's
ANYBODY THERE YOU KNOW
And if there's somebody there you know
You'll go over and sit at the table with him
And you'll look around to see if there's any PUSSY coming in later

And you'll sit there and you'll keep watching the door
And then you'll watch the floor
And then you'll get lucky, oh my God
Here comes one, here's one worth striving for
She's— She's training to be a nurse
She looks clean
No potential of disease here
It looks like the big one
Yes, you're gonna try for it, AREN'T YOU?

Who knows? Maybe you'll do good, maybe you won't, but you gotta try, because she looks like a nurse, right? No diseases and you gotta try.

So . . .
She's coming in
She has a girlfriend
Her girlfriend is UGLY

Because cute girls always have ugly girlfriends, and the reason that they have ugly girlfriends is because it makes them look cuter!

The girls come into the disco
There they are
They're getting ready for some action
They don't want anybody to know that they wanna get
FUCKED ALL NIGHT LONG
Girls that are training to be nurses with ugly girlfriends
Don't want people to know that's what they REALLY WANT

So when they walk in, what do they do?
They look around
They go to the bar
They see if there's any HUNKS at the bar
They're checking out the hunks
There's no good hunks at the bar
There's a couple of NERDS at the bar
And somebody who is gonna be a nurse later
Doesn't want to get pooched by a NERD
She wants a HUNK
So when there's no hunks at the bar
Her and her ugly girlfriend go to the toilet together!

While they're in there
They fix their hair
They check their nails
They look around
They smell their breath
By holding their hand underneath like this and blowing up their nose
The ugly girlfriend takes out her eyebrow pencil and writes,
"FUCK ME, YOU UGLY SON OF A BITCH!"
On the wall

Her girlfriend who's gonna be a nurse
Tells her, "That's not really very nice to do
But let's go out and see if there's any more hunks"
Then they go out of the toilet
They go back into the disco
They go out and they look around the floor,
See if there's any guys who can DANCE

Well, there's always one
He's a cute guy
He has no—
He has no abilities in any field other
Than shaking his booty on the dance floor
But he doesn't need to
Because his father owns a DEPARTMENT STORE
And he'll never have to go to work a day in his life
So he was born cute and he's dancing
And he's out there kind of waiting for somebody
Who's gonna grow up to be a nurse
With an ugly girlfriend
Maybe—

Anyway, you, remember, you, when you went in there and you, you saw the nurse before they went into the toilet. But the nurse and the ugly girlfriend came out and they saw this dancing hunk on the floor. Hey, this is gonna be some competition for you. You don't wanna see a nice clean nurse going off with a dancing hunk, do you?

No. Not you! You won't stand for it. You're part Italian, right? You're not? What, you're Jewish? Love your nails.

Anyway—'Cause if you were part Italian you'd get some of your friends and stab him when he left the club, wouldn't you?

But you're not gonna wait till he leaves the club. Nope. You're gonna get him where it hurts, you don't care whether he's a cute guy dancing. You can't dance, but you're gonna pooch the nurse, aren't you? So you go over to the girl and you say these words:

"I respect you for your mind!"

Then the nurse looks at you and goes, "Jay-zus-Christ! Jay-zus-fuckin'-Christ! What's wrong with you?" Then she turns to her ugly girlfriend and says, "Let's go get the hunk!"

Then you get suicidal. You go to your friend, who's at the other table, and you ask him if he's got any downers. And he does! He gives you a fistful of them. You want to kill yourself right there in the disco, don't you? So you eat all of the downers, right there.

Down and down they go
Round and round they go
You're going into a spin
You're loving the spin you're in

The next thing you know, you're up and you're dancing your ass off, aren't you? That's right! Suddenly, the nurse and her ugly girlfriend have NEW RESPECT FOR YOU. 'Cause you're a potential dancing hunk. So—

But you're so wasted you don't even know what's going on. All this time you thought you were going to the toilet. But you can't find it anymore, you're just wandering around the middle of the dance floor. And the beat goes on and you're so wrong, it's pumping away and your buttocks are pumping up and down, you're really doing the twist and everything.

Well, the next thing you know you're over at the nurse's apartment. Her and her ugly girlfriend have all this S&M APPARATUS.

Because they discussed it, before they took you there, they said, "Hey, anybody who can dance like that has gotta be FAN-TASTIC." So you've been abducted and you're over there in a nurse's apartment, except now she's wearing black leather underpants, a garter belt, a pointed titanium brassiere, and she's got a riding crop in one hand, with a black Halloween mask.

And she's putting on Black Sabbath albums in the background.

That's right. But you're so wasted, what do you know? You think you're having a good time.

And then . . .
She makes you get down on your knees
You're kissing her boots
She's beating you across the forehead
With the riding crop
You don't know
You're so wasted
Her ugly girlfriend
Is tying your hands behind your back
With some barbed wire
You like it a lot
They roll you over
They take a hot poker
You still think you're having a good time

You see what can happen when you go to a disco?

You see what can happen when you leave a disco?

Well, but not to change the subject, ladies and gentlemen, we have this song that we might as well do for you now just to end this thing off. Uh, it's based on what the girl wrote on the wall in the toilet. The name of this song is "Stick It Out."

One, two . . . one, two, three . . .

Fick mich, du miserabler Hurensohn
Fick mich, du miserabler Hurensohn
Streck aus deinem heißen gelockten
Streck aus deinem heißen gelockten
Streck aus deinem heißen gelockten Schwanz
Ah-ee-ahee-ahhhhh!
Mach es sehr schnell
Rein und raus
Magisches Schwein
Mach es sehr schnell
Rein und raus
Magisches Schwein
Bis es spritzt, spritzt, spritzt, spritzt
Feuer!
Bis es spritzt, spritzt, spritzt, spritzt
Feuer!
Aber beklecker nicht das Sofa, Sofa!
Aber beklecker nicht das Sofa, Sofa!
Aber beklecker nicht das Sofa, Sofa!
Aber beklecker nicht das Sofa, Sofa!

FZ: And now, one more time in English. And if you know the words, sing along.

Fuck me, you ugly son of a bitch
You ugly son of a bitch
Fuck me, you ugly son of a bitch
Stick out yer hot curly weenie
Stick out yer hot curly weenie
Stick out yer hot curly weenie
Weenie . . . weenie, weenie, weenie!
Make it go fast
In and out,
Magical Pig
Make it go fast
In and out,
Magical Pig
Till it squirts (squirts), squirts (squirts), squirts (squirts), squirts (squirts)
Fire
Till it squirts (squirts), squirts (squirts), squirts (squirts), squirts (squirts)
Fire
Don't get no jizz upon that sofa, sofa
Don't get no jizz upon that sofa, sofa
Don't get no jizz upon that sofa, sofa
Don't get no jizz upon that sofa, sofa

FZ: Ike, Tommy, Steve, Vinnie, Arthur, Bob, Ray, you and the nurse and her ugly girlfriend. Thanks for coming to the show. Goodnight.

FZ: Thank you! Okay, okay, sit down. Just relax. One, two . . . one, two . . .

Three, four . . .

Special Delivery.
(Oh no . . . )
Registered Mail, buddy. You're gonna have to sign for this.
(Oh no . . . )
Come on out, I know you're in there.
(Oh no . . . )
You goddamn communist!

I don't wanna get drafted. I don't want to go
I don't wanna get drafted.

I don't wanna get drafted. I don't want to go
I don't wanna get drafted
Oh-no-woh.

Roller skates and disco is a lot of fun
I'm too young and stupid to operate a gun.

I don't wanna get drafted
(No!)
I don't wanna get drafted
(Heh, he-heh, he-heh)
I don't wanna get drafted
(Don't touch me, get away now)
I don't wanna get drafted.

My-ay-ay sister don't wanna get drafted
She don't wanna go
My sister don't wanna get drafted.

My-ay-ay sister don't wanna get drafted
She don't wanna go
My sister don't wanna get drafted
Woh-oh-woh-oh-woh.

Wars are really ugly, they're dirty and they're cold.
I don't want nobody to shoot her in the foxhole . . . foxhole.

I don't wanna get drafted
(No way)
I don't wanna get drafted
(Uh-huh)
I don't wanna get drafted
(No)
I don't wanna get drafted.

Wars are really ugly, they're dirty and they're cold
I don't want nobody to shoot her in the foxhole . . . foxhole.

Aiieeeeeeeee . . . Shot in the foxhole.
Aiieeeeeeeee . . . Shot in the foxhole.
Aiieeeeeeeee . . . Shot in the foxhole.
Aiieeeeeeeee . . . Shot in the foxhole.

Hey there, people, I'm Bobby Brown
They say I'm the cutest boy in town
My car is fast, my teeth is shiney
I tell all the girls they can kiss my heinie
Here I am at a famous school
I'm dressin' sharp 'n I'm
Actin' cool
I got a cheerleader here wants to help with my paper
Let her do all the work 'n maybe later I'll rape her

Oh God I am the American dream
I do not think I'm too extreme
An' I'm a handsome sonofabitch
Gonna get a good job 'n be real rich
(Get a good, get a good, get a good, get a good job)

Women's Liberation
Came creepin' all across the nation
I tell you people, I was not ready
When I fucked this dyke by the name of Freddie
She made a little speech then,
Aw, she tried to make me say when
She had my balls in a vice, but she left the dick
I guess it's still hooked on, but now it shoots too quick

Oh God I am the American dream
But now I smell like Vaseline
An' I'm a miserable sonofabitch
Am I a boy or a lady . . . I don't know which
(I wonder wonder, wonder wonder)

So I went out 'n bought me a leisure suit
I jingle my change, but I'm still kinda cute
Got a job doin' radio promo
An' none of the jocks can even tell I'm a homo
Eventually me 'n a friend
Sorta of drifted along into S&M
I can take about an hour on the tower of power
'Long as I gets a little golden shower

Oh God I am the American dream
With a spindle up my butt till it makes me scream
An' I'll do anything to get ahead
I lay awake nights sayin', "Thank you, Fred!"
Oh God, Oh God, I'm so fantastic!
Thanks to Freddie, I'm a sexual spastic
And my name is Bobby Brown
Watch me now; I'm goin' down,
And my name is Bobby Brown
Watch me now; I'm goin' down,
And my name is Bobby Brown

Watch me now, because the name of this song is "Ms. Pinky."

I got a girl with a little rubber head
I rinse her out every night just before I go to bed
She never talk back like a lady might do
An' she looks like she loves it every time I get through

And her name is
P-I-N-K-Y
P-I-N I cry
K-Y don't be shy
$69.95, boy
Give her a try

Her eyes is all shut in an ecstasy face
You can cram it down her throat, people, any old place
Throw the little switch on her battery pack
You can poot it, you can shoot it till your wife gets back

And her name is P-I-N-K-Y
P-I-N, I cry
K-Y, don't be shy
$69.95, boy
Give her a try

I got a girl with a little rubber head
Rinse her out every night just before I go to bed
She never talk back like a lady might do
An' she looks like she loves it every time I get through

And her name is P-I-N-K-Y
P-I-N, I cry
K-Y, don't be shy
$69.95, boy
Give her a try
$69.95, boy
Give her a try
$69.95, boy
Give her a try
$69.95, boy
Give her a try
$69.95, boy
Give her a try . . .

Give Ike a try
Give Tommy a try
And a set of chord changes
Give Steve a try
And a bottle of Easter egg color
Give Vinnie a try
And a couple of Pepto-Bismol suppositories
Give Arthur a try
And an Anton Webern cassette
For his birthday
Give Bob a try
AND A CARROT
Give Ray a try
But keep that horrible wine in the dressing room
Away from him
It might hurt him
He could mutate insanely
Oh, Atlantis!

Thanks for coming to the show! Goodnight, Buffalo.