I am gross and perverted I’m obsessed ’n deranged I have existed for years But very little had changed I am the tool of the government And industry too For I am destined to rule And regulate you I may be vile and pernicious But you can’t look away I make you think I’m delicious With the stuff that I say I am the best you can get Have you guessed me yet? I am the slime oozin’ out From your tv set You will obey me while I lead you And eat the garbage that I feed you Until the day that we don’t need you Don’t got for help...no one will heed you Your mind is totally controlled It has been stuffed into my mold And you will do as you are told Until the rights to you are sold That’s right, folks.. Don’t touch that dial Well, I am the slime from your video Oozin’ along on your livin’room floor I am the slime from your video Can’t stop the slime, people, lookit me go
thats very good.. Whoever we are Wherever we’re from We shoulda noticed by now Our behavior is dumb And if our chances Expect to improve It’s gonna take a lot more Than tryin’ to remove The other race Or the other whatever From the face Of the planet altogether They call it the earth Which is a dumb kinda name But they named it right ’cause we behave the same... We are dumb all over Dumb all over, Yes we are Dumb all over, Near ’n far Dumb all over, Black ’n white People, we is not wrapped tight Nurds on the left Nurds on the right Religous fanatics On the air every night Sayin’ the bible Tells the story Makes the details Sound real gory ’bout what to do If the geeks over there Don’t believe in the book We got over here You can’t run a race Without no feet ’n pretty soon There won’t be no street For dummies to jog on Or doggies to dog on Religous fanatics Can make it be all gone (I mean it won’t blow up ’n disappear It’ll just look ugly For a thousand years...) You can’t run a country By a book of religion Not by a heap Or a lump or a smidgeon Of foolish rules Of ancient date Designed to make You all feel great While you fold, spindle And mutilate Those unbelievers From a neighboring state To arms! to arms! Hooray! that’s great Two legs ain’t bad Unless there’s a crate They ship the parts To mama in For souvenirs: two ears (get down!) Not his, not hers, (but what the hey? ) The good book says: (it gotta be that way!) But their book says: Revenge the crusades... With whips ’n chains ’n hand grenades... Two arms? two arms? Have another and another Our God says: There ain’t no other! Our God says It’s all okay! Our God says This is the way! It says in the book: Burn ’n destroy... ’n repent, ’n redeem ’n revenge, ’n deploy ’n rumble thee forth To the land of the unbelieving scum on the other side ’cause they don’t go for what’s in the book ’n that makes ’em bad So verily we must choppeth them up And stompeth them down Or rent a nice french bomb To poof them out of existance While leaving their real estate just where we need it To use again For temples in which to praise our god (cause he can really take care of business!) And when his humble tv servant With humble white hair And humble glasses And a nice brown suit And maybe a blond wife who takes phone calls Tells us our God says It’s okay to do this stuff Then we gotta do it, ’cause if we don’t do it, We ain’t gwine up to hebbin! (depending on which book you’re using at the Time...can’t use theirs... it don’t work ...it’s all lies...gotta use mine...) Ain’t that right? That’s what they say Every night... Every day... Hey, we can’t really be dumb If we’re just following god’s orders Hey, let’s get serious... God knows what he’s doin’ He wrote this book here An’ the book says: He made us all to be just like him, So... If we’re dumb... Then God is dumb... (an’ maybe even a little ugly on the side)(wicked) (Y) most underrated composer of the 20th century.
Ok Heres another Anyone thats not heard zappa should seek some out. http://www.killuglyradio.com/features/miscellaneous/arf_arf_arf.php THING-FISH: Now, dis nasty sucker is de respondable party fo de en-whiffment o' de origumal potium. Through de magik o' stage-kraff, we be able to see him at woik! He now be preparin' some ugly **** to make yo' life even mo' mizzable den it awready are, since dis batch be resigned to render him IMMORTAL! We does not know if it gwine woik yet, but we kin always hope fo' de best! THING-FISH: (singing) Flies all green 'n buzznin' In his dunjing of despair Prisoners grummle an' piss dey' clothes 'N scratch dey' matted hair A tiny light fum a window-hole A hunnit yards away Is all dey ever gets t'know 'Bouts de reg'luh life in de day An' it stink so bad, de stones been chokin' 'N weepin' greenish drops In de room where de giant fowah-puffer woikin', 'N de torchum never stops De torchum never stops De torchum, De torchum, De torchum never stops (Go on, 'DEWLLA! Play dat lil' guitar one mo'gin!) (spoken) Uh-oh! I smells trubba! He be messin' wit pigmeat heahhh! Muthafecker be rejectin' some CO-LOG- NUH directly into de DUO-DEENUM of de unsuspecting victim! Now he gone see if he immune to it by eatin' a dab hisseff! (singing) Flies all green an' buzznin' In his dunjing of despair An EVIL PRINCE eats a steamin' pig In a chamber, right near dere He eat de snouts an' de trotters foist! De loins an' de groins id soon re-spersed His carvin' style id well re-hoist He stan' 'n shout: All main be coist! All main be coist! All main be coist! All main be coist! An' dis-ergree? Well, no one durst... He de best, of cose, of all de woist Some wrong been done, he done it foist... An' he stink so bad, his bones been chokin' And weepin' greenish drops, In de vat of GALOOT CO-LOG-NUH, Where de Re-zease be berlin' up Berlin' an' uh boilin' up CO-LOG-NUH! CO-LOG-NUH! GALOOT CO-LOG-UH-NUH! THING-FISH: (spoken) Oh! Do yoseff a favum 'n DON'T USE IT! Oooooooh! Look at THESE ugly suckers! Boy, when white folks come back fum bein' dead, they sho' gets scary-lookin'! But don't take their appearance too seriously, people, 'cause dey say dis de sort o' folks dat belongs on BROADWAY! The BROADWAY ZOMBIES collect around the EVIL PRINCE, who suddenly suspects the presence of an intruder. After taking a large bite from an onion he sings... EVIL PRINCE: (singing) Somewhere, over there, I can tell, There's a voice of A potato-headed whatchamacallit Who does not wish me well! His clothes are quite stupid, And also his shoes! He's got a big ol' duck-mouth! (Who knows how he chews!) He thinks he knows something About THE GREAT PLAN! How ULTIMATE BLANDNESS Must RULE and COMMAND He knows not a drop, Not a crumb, Not a whit, Of the reason for doing This criminal **** And then, if he did, Would it matter a bit? Not at all! Because IT IS WRIT: Our BEIGE-BLANDISH GOD Tends to CERTIFY IT: "Only the boring and bland shall survive! Only the lamest of lameness will thrive!" Take it or leave it, you won't be alive, If you are overtly CREATIVE! Fairies and faggots and queers are 'CREATIVE' All the best music on Broadway is 'NATIVE' Who will step forward And end all this trouble? For beige-blandish citizens, Clutching the rubble Of vanishing dreams Of wimpish amusement, Replaced by a rash Of 'CREATIVE' confusement! Soon, my brave Zombies, You'll make your return! Broadway will glow! Broadway will burn! (Along with the remnants of EVERYTHING NEW) My HOLY DISEASE will do Wonders for you! Those lovely producers Who paid for you 'then' Will do it again, and again, and again! EVIL PRINCE: (singing to the Zombies) The spying potato With horrible diction Will rot in the garbage When this show's eviction Takes place shortly after My alternate skill Of THEATRICAL SABOTAGE Triumphs YOUR will! I've a special review I've been saving for years For a show just like this, With POTATOES and QUEERS I'll say it's disgusting, atrocious, and dull I'll say it makes boils inside of your skull I'll say it's the worst-of-the-worst of the year, No wind down the plain, and it's hard on your ear I'll say it's the work of an infantile mind I'll say that it's tasteless, and that you will find A better excuse to spend money or time At a Tupper-Ware Party, So, do be a smarty! Hold on to that dollar A little while longer For spending it here, Why, it couldn't be wronger! WHAT'S HAPPENED TO BROADWAY? WHERE'S IT GONE, ALL THE GLITTER? THE 'HEART' AND THE 'SOUL' THE PATTER? THE PITTER? And after this deadly review hits the paper, In will come ROPER, BENDER & RAPER, To legally execute all that remains Of this tragic amusement for drug-addled brains THING-FISH: (singing) Flies all green an' buzznin' In his dunjing of despair Who are all o' dem ZOMBIES Dat he feckin' wit down dere? Are dey crazy? Are dey sainted? Are dey STAGE-KRAFF someone painted? It have never been explained, Since at first it were created, But, a MUSICAL, like we's in, Require a WHOLE BUNCH O' EVERYTHIN'! We talkin' EVERYTHIN' DAT EVER BEEN! Look at her! Look at him! Dat what de deal we dealin' in Dat what de deal we dealin' in Dat what de deal we dealin' in Dat what de deal we dealin' in
