(Zappa, LP, Warner Bros. BS 2970, October 29, 1976)
Produced by Frank Zappa
Record Plant, LA
c. May-June, 1976
Engineers: Michael Braunstein, Davey Moire
Re-mix engineer: Frank Zappa
Photography: Gary Heery
Design: Cal Schenkel
FZ—guitar, bass, synth, lead vocal
Terry Bozzio—drums
Davey Moire—lead vocal, bg. vocal
This here song might offend you some
If it does, it's because you're dumb
That's the way it is where I come from
If you've been there too, let me see your thumb
Let me see your thumb
(Ah, let me see your thumb)
Let me see your thumb
(Ah, let me see your thumb)
Let me see your thumb
(Ah, let me see your thumb)
Let me see your thumb
(Ah, let me see your thumb)
Let me see your thumb
(Ah, let me see your thumb)
Let me see your thumb
(Ah, let me see your thumb)
Let me see your thumb
(Ah, let me see your thumb)
Let me see your thumb
(Ah, let me see your thumb)
Show me your thumb if you're really dumb
Show me your thumb if you're really dumb
Show me your thumb if you're really dumb
Show me your thumb if you're dumb
Hey now, better make a decision
Be a moron and keep your position
You oughta know now all your education
Won't help you no-how, you're gonna . . .
Wind up workin' in a gas station
Wind up workin' in a gas station
Wind up workin' in a gas station
Wind up workin' in a gas station
Pumpin' the gas every night
Pumpin' the gas every night
Wind up workin' in a gas station
Wind up workin' in a gas station
Pumpin' the gas every night
Pumpin' the gas every night
Wind up workin' in a gas station
Wind up workin' in a gas station
Manny de Camper vants to buy some vite
(Wind up workin' in a gas station
Wind up workin' in a gas station)
(Fish!)
Manny de Camper vants to buy some vite
(Wind up workin' in a gas station
Wind up workin' in a gas station)
(Fish!)
Manny de Camper vants to buy some vite
(Wind up workin' in a gas station
Wind up workin' in a gas station)
(Fish!)
Manny de Camper vants to buy some vite
(Wind up workin' in a gas station
Wind up workin' in a gas station)
(Fish!)
Wind up workin' in a gas station
Wind up workin' in a gas station
Wind up workin' in a gas station
Wind up workin' in a gas station
Kosei Nenkin Kaikan, Osaka, Japan
February 3, 1976
FZ—guitar
Terry Bozzio—drums
André Lewis—organ, vocal
Roy Estrada—bass, vocal
Napoleon Murphy Brock—vocal
Wee-ee-oooh
Wee-ee-oooh
Wee-ee-oooh
Wee-ee-oooh
Wee-ee-oooh
Wee-ee-oooh
Wee-ee-oooh
Wee-ee-oooh
Wee-ee-oooh
Wee-ee-oooh
Wee-ee-oooh
FZ—guitar, bass, keyboards, vocal, director of recreational activities
Terry Bozzio—drums
Flies all green 'n buzzin' in his dungeon of despair
Prisoners grumble and piss their clothes and scratch their matted hair
A tiny 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
Slime 'n rot, rats 'n snot 'n vomit on the floor
Fifty ugly soldiers, man, holdin' spears by the iron door
Knives 'n spikes 'n guns 'n the likes of every tool of pain
An' a sinister 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 prince eats a steamin' pig in a chamber right near there
He eats the snouts 'n the trotters first
The loins 'n the groins is soon dispersed
His carvin' style is well rehearsed
He stands and shouts
All men be cursed
All men be cursed
All men be cursed
All men be cursed
And disagree, well no-one durst
He's the best of course of all the worst
Some wrong been done, he done it first
(Well, well) An' he stinks so bad, his bones been chokin'
(Yeah) 'N weepin' greenish drops,
(Well) In the night of the iron sausage,
(Well) 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 those people that he's locked away up there
Are they crazy?
Are they sainted?
Are they zeros someone painted?
It has never been explained since at first it was created
But a dungeon 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
FZ—guitar, bass, synth, lead vocal
Terry Bozzio—drums
Donnie Vliet—harmonica (uncredited)
Ruth Underwood—synth
Roy Estrada—bg. vocal
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, no lie
K-Y, me-oh-my
She's $69.95
Give her a try
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
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
You can poot it, you can shoot it till your wife gets back
You can poot it, you can shoot it till your wife gets back
You can poot it, you can shoot it till your wife gets back
You can poot it, you can shoot it till your wife gets back
You can poot it, you can shoot it till your wife gets back
FZ—guitar, bass, keyboards, synth, vocal
Terry Bozzio—drums, bg. vocal
Donnie Vliet—harmonica
Roy Estrada—bg. vocal
Ruben Ladron de Guevara—bg. vocal
Find her finer, sneak up behind her
Wrapped like a mummy till you finally unwind her
Find her blinder, see who designed her
Act like a dummy till you finally grind her
If you should see a girl on the street
Now maybe you might think she is sweet
But if you wanna tickle her treat
Now really, what should you do?
(Rat-tat-tat-tat ta-da!)
Don't never let her know you are smart
The universe is no way to start
You gotta play it straight from the heart
She gwine renunciate you
(That's why you gotta . . . )
Find her finer, sneak up behind her
Wrapped like a mummy till you finally unwind her
Find her blinder, see who designed her
Act like a dummy till you finally grind her
Now maybe you might think this is crude
And maybe you might think I am rude
And maybe this approach I have spewed
Is not the one for you
(Rat-tat-tat-tat ta-da!)
But believe me later on you'll find
As you impress her with your mind
That you would just be left behind
For a wiser fool
(So you might as well)
Find her finer, sneak up behind her
Wrapped like a mummy till you finally unwind her
Find her blinder, see who designed her
Act like a dummy till you finally grind her
Find her finer, sneak up behind her
Wrapped like a mummy till you finally unwind her
Find her blinder, see who designed her
Act like a dummy till you finally grind her
Find her finer, sneak up behind her
Wrapped like a mummy till you finally unwind her
Find her blinder, see who designed her
Act like a dummy till you finally grind her
Find her finer, sneak up behind her
Wrapped like a mummy till you finally unwind her
Find her blinder, see who designed her
Act like a dummy till you finally grind her
Find her finer, sneak up behind her
Wrapped like a mummy till you finally unwind her
Find her blinder, see who designed her
Act like a dummy till you finally grind her
includes a quotation from Bringing In The Sheaves (Shaw/Minor)
Basic track:
Hofstra University, Hempstead
October 26, 1975
FZ—guitar, bass
Roy Estrada—drone bass
Terry Bozzio—drums
Ruth Underwood—marimba, synth
Brass section:
Bolic Sound, Inglewood, CA
May 30 and June 1, 1973
Ian Underwood—saxophone
Bruce Fowler—trombone
Sal Marquez—trumpet
Basic guitar track probably recorded at Paramount Recording Studios, LA, CA, 1972; or Bolic Sound, Inglewood, CA, 1973
Brass section recorded at Bolic Sound, Inglewood, CA
May 30 and June 1, 1973
FZ—guitars, bass, keyboard, vocal
Terry Bozzio—drums
+
Ian Underwood—saxophone
Bruce Fowler—trombone
Sal Marquez—trumpet
L.A. in the summer of '69
I went downtown and bought me some wine
Oh, I drank it down under the table
I said: "Watch me now, I'm gonna eat the label!"
Well I'm a wino man
Don't you know I am?
36, 24, hips about 30
I seen a fine lady and I started talkin' dirty
Boy, she looked over at me and she raised her thumb
She said: "Jam down the road, you bum-ba-bum-bum"
I'm a wino man
Don't you know I am?
I went to the country
And while I was gone
I lost control of my body functions
On a roller-headed lady's front lawn
I'm so ashamed, but I'm a wino man
I can't help myself
I've been drinkin' all night till my eyes got red
Stumbled on the gutter and busted my head
Bugs in my zoot suit, been scratchin' like a dog
I can't stand no water, and I stink like a hog
Give me a five-dollar bill
And an overcoat too
Give me a five-dollar bill
And an overcoat too
A five-dollar bill and an overcoat too
A five-dollar bill and a Florsheim shoe
FZ—guitar
Terry Bozzio—drums
Dave Parlato—bass
Ruth Underwood—marimba
Lou Ann Neill—harp
FZ—guitar, bass, keyboards, synth, vocal
Terry Bozzio—drums, bg. vocal
Davey Moire—bg. vocal
André Lewis—bg. vocal
Roy Estrada—bg. vocal
Sparkie Parker—bg. vocal
Disco Boy
Run to the toilet, honey,
Comb your hair
Disco Boy
Pucker yer lip,
'N check yer shoulder,
'Cause some dandruff might be
Hidin' there!
Disco Boy,
You're the DISCO KING!
Aw, the Disco-Thing
Made you think
Someday,
That you
Just might GO SOMEWHERE!
Disco Girl!
You're 'out-a-site'!
You need a Disco Boy
To treat you right
He'll do a little dance;
Take you home tonight
(Leave his hair alone,
But you can kiss his comb)
Disco Boy!
Run to the toilet boy,
'N comb your hair
Disco Boy!
Shake it more than three times 'n yer playin' with it
(WOW!)
While yer standin' there!
(Well . . . )
Disco Boy!
Do the Bump every night, 'til the Disco Girl
Who's REALLY RIGHT
Gonna fall for yer line,
'N feed you a box fulla
Chicken Delight!
Disco chit-chat; so demure!
Pump that booty all across the floor!
A disco drink
A disco wink
"You never go doody!"
(That's what you think)
"You never go doody!"
(That's what you think)
"You never go doody!"
(That's what you think)
Doody
Ah, go doody
Doody
You never go doody
Doody
You never go doody
Doody
You never go doody
Doody
You never go doody
Ah, baby, doody
No doody
Doody
Ah, baby, doody
Disco Boy!
You got one more chance
To comb your hair again
Disco Boy!
They're closin' the bar,
And she's leavin' with your friend!
Disco Boy,
That's the way it goes,
So wipe your nose,
'N try it again,
To get a little laid tomorrow!
Disco Boy,
No one understands,
But thank THE LORD
That you still got hands
To help you do that jerkin' that'll
Blot out yer Disco Sorrow!
It's Disco Love tonight
Make sure you look all right
It's Disco Love tonight
Make sure you look all right
All compositions by Frank Zappa except as noted