The crux of the biscuit is the apostrophe'.
That's, indeed, the perfect answer to the question:
"What's your conceptual continuity?"
fbaezer, what song/album is that from? Is it the same album that has "Moving to Montana soon". ?
"Apostrophe(*)" is from the album Apostrophe (*).
"Montana" is from the album OVer-nite Sensation.
Thanks for the info. brings back memories of a road trip we took a few years back.
Welcome.
St. Alphonso would be proud of me.
Let's Make the Water Turn Black (from We're only in it for the Money)
Now believe me when I tell you that my
song is really true
I want everyone to listen and believe
It's about some little people from a long
time ago
And all the things the neighbors didn't
know
Early in the morning Daddy Dinky went
to work
Selling lamps & chairs to San Ber'dino
squares
And I still remember Mama with her
apron & her pad
Feeding all the boys at Ed's Cafe!
Whizzing & pasting & pooting through
the day
(Ronnie helping Kenny helping burn his
poots away!)
And all the while on a shelf in the shed:
KENNY'S LITTLE CREATURES ON
DISPLAY!
Ronnie saves his numies on a window in
his room
(A marvel to be seen: dysentery green)
While Kenny & his buddies had a game
out in the back:
LET'S MAKE THE WATER TURN
BLACK
We see them after school in a world of
their own
(To some it might seem creepy what
they do...)
The neighbors on the right sat & watched
them every night
(I bet you'd do the same if they was you)
Whizzing & pasting & pooting through
the day
(Ronnie helping Kenny helping burn his
poots away!)
And all the while on a shelf in the shed:
KENNY'S LITTLE CREATURES ON
DISPLAY!
Ronnie's in the Army now & Kenny's
taking pills
Oh! How they yearn to see a bomber
burn!
Color flashing, thunder crashing,
dynamite machine!
(Wait till the fire turns green... wait till
the fire turns green)
WAIT TILL THE FIRE TURNS GREEN!
The Torture Never Stops
"Flies all green and buzzin',
in this 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 gets to know
about the regular light in the day.
And it stinks so bad, the stones been chokin',
and weepin' greenish drops.
In the room where the giant fire puffer works,
and the torture never stops.
The torture never stops.
Slime and rot, rats and snot,
and vomit on the floor.
Fifty yoogly soldiers, man,
holdin' spears by the iron door.
Knives and spikes, and guns and the likes
of every tool of pain.
And a sinister midget, with a bucket and a mop,
where the blood goes down the drain.
And it stinks so bad, the stones been chokin',
and weepin' greenish drops.
In the room where the giant fire puffer works,
and the torture never stops.
The torture never stops.
The torture.. the torture..
The torture never stops.
Flies all green and buzzin',
in this dungeon of despair.
An evil prince eats a steaming pig,
in a chamber right near there.
He eats the snouts and the trotters first.
The loins and 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.
And it stinks so bad, his bones been chokin',
and 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 and buzzin',
in this dungeon of despair.
Who are all those people,
that he's locked away down there?
Are they crazy?
Are they sainted?
Are they zeroes,
someone painted?
And it's never been explained,
since it 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 dealin' in.
That's what's the deal we're dealin' in.
That's what's the deal we're dealin' in.
That's what's the deal we're dealin' in."
i'm a band leader, not only can i drink a whole lot, but i play twenty three different instuments too and i don't even know how to read music.
self taught,
youknow. couldn't tell it though to hear me, play.
when i play and sway in rhythm to the cadjadoodle tunes that i know alll the girls for five miles around get hot pants for me. hotcha!
last night was pretty good for a winsdy, we got 10 requests for.....we had....bill bailey, and we had six people came up for the twist contest.
i gave away a box, with two small bottle of champagne imported from europe (heh). and kissed the girl who won, and shook hands with the guy she was with.
he didn't mind when i kissed her because i'm important.
we have a new routine, been working on it for three weeks or more. i pretend i'm a queer, and the sax player pretends he's a queer too and later on in the show....(this'll kill yer)....we kiss, eachother, so that it looks to the audience like we kiss eachother on the mouth.
when we go......intoa fast number GAWD! the people love it wait....till we...git...to las vegas!
you'll love it......it's a way of life.
dont make a fuss, just get on the bus.
And all the rest of whom for which to whensonever of
partially indeterminate bio-chemical degredation. Seek the
path to the sudsy yellow nozzle of
their foaming nocturnal parametric digital whole-wheat
inter-faith geo-thermal terpsichorean ejectamenta.
All of his songs without lyrics are the best...
@fbaezer,
This song could be sung by THE DONALD, since the words so aptly describe WHO and WHAT THE DONALD is! He's a very dangerous 3 dollar bill. Frank Zappa died on Dec. 4, 1993, so this song is well over 20 years old. BUT, it sure fits THE DONALD!
