Halloween 77

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

All right!

Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. You're probably wondering what we're doing here, right? Well, we're making a movie, you see. And you people are in the movie. You like that idea, right?

In case anybody who is, uh—jam on, right—in case anybody who is seeing this film wonders where it is and what's happening—yes, you will hear "Disco Boy"—what's that one say? No, we do not play "Suzy Creamcheese"—this film is being made in New York City, October, 1977. Bob. Phil. Dick. All right. Now, let's get on with the show, okay? You guys just sit down, relax, just relax. Okay.

I'd like to introduce you to the members of our rockin' teen-age combo. Ladies and gentlemen, Patrick O'Hearn on bass. Where's that spotlight? That's Patrick. This is Adrian Belew on guitar. Tommy Mars on keyboards. Little skinny Terry "Ted" Bozzio on drums. Peter Wolf on keyboards. And Ed Mann on percussion.

And what's my name?

(ZAPPA!)

Huh? All right, you're ready?

 

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, yeah
The torture never stops
The torture
The torture
The torture never stops

Thank you, Sue and Michelle.

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, yeah
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, up there too
All men be cursed
All men be cursed
And disagree, well 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

All right! You people want to get tortured tonight or what? Awright . . .

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?
It has 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! I'm only fourteen
Sickly 'n thin
Tried all of my life
Just to grow me a chin
It popped out once
Yeah, but my dad pushed it in
Tell me, why did he hurt me?
Lord, he's my next of kin
He's a mex-i-kin

I'm lonely 'n green
Too small for my shirt
If Simmons was here
I could feature my hurt
Scared of the future
'N I hope I don't grow
Listen, nobody likes me
'Cause everywhere that I go
They say no
They say no
They say no
No
They say no

Now I'm older
Got a place in the town, babe
Got a chin on my shoulder
'N it keeps growing down 'n down 'n down
I'm horny 'n lonely
'N I wish I was dead
Somebody tell me
Why am I livin'?
Lord, I wanna be dead instead
That's right, I said
I wanna be dead instead
Now dig this . . .

I wanna be dead
In bed
Please kill me
(Get the picture?)
'Cause that would thrill me
I wanna be dead
In bed
Please kill me
(Wow!)
'Cause that would thrill me
I wanna be dead
(Lord, I wanna be dead instead)
In bed
Please kill me
(Be dead in bed, yeah)
'Cause that would thrill me
I wanna be dead
In bed
(Well, just as sure as my name is Terry Ted, Terry Ted)
Please kill me
'Cause that would thrill me
(Kill me)
I wanna be dead
(Thrill me)
In bed
(Fill me)
Please kill me
(With some love)
'Cause that would thrill me
(Kill me)
I wanna be dead
(Thrill me)
In bed
(Wo-ah-ow!)
Please kill me
'Cause that would thrill me

One more time for the world!

I wanna be dead
(Yeah-hey!)
In bed
(I wanna be dead instead)
Please kill me
(Be dead in bed)
'Cause that would thrill me
I wanna be dead
(Love my little girl)
In bed
(Gimme some head, hey-hey-hey)
Please kill me
'Cause that would thrill me
('Cause I'm only fourteen)
I wanna be dead
(Sickly 'n green)
In bed
Please kill me
(Feelin' really lean
I'm in love, see, ah!)
'Cause that would thrill me
I wanna be dead
(Too small for my shirt)
In bed
(Feature my hurt)
Please kill me
(Wah-hey!)
'Cause that would thrill me

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
Keep you warm
Tiny pillows
Hey, tiny tiny tiny tiny sheets
Talkin' 'bout them tiny cookies
That the peoples eat

City of tiny lites
Hey, 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 blankets
(Oh, how cute)
Keep you warm
Tiny pillows
Hey, tiny tiny tiny tiny sheets
Talkin' 'bout them tiny cookies
That the peoples eat
That the peoples eat
That the peoples eat
That the peoples eat

And it's over there
It's over there
And it's over there
And it's over there

 

Why, it's almost like Alvin Lee's watermelon, only perverted. All right. I'm sure that some of you were at the show last night when we gave this song its New York premiere. But some of you weren't at the show last night so you need to hear the story about this song, you know? Some of you people [...] need to hear all the story too.

All right, in order to hear the story that means you have to use your ears and listen to the story, because a person such as myself can only talk so loud in a room like this. Now, listen. This is sad, this is a sad and somewhat serious story. This is the story about the three assholes.

Once upon a time there was a rock & roll musician who got interviewed by three assholes. These assholes came to the rock & roll musician hotel room along with their girlfriends. The reason they brought their girlfriends along is because they wanted to let their girlfriends know that they were going up there to interview that Zappa guy and they weren't gonna take any shit from him. Right on, brothers and sisters, right on!

And so, they— Hey, give me the hat. Sure, I'll take the hat. Heh heh. I need a hat like that. Thank you.

Anyway, these three crumpet munching idiots came to my room with their girlfriends, you see? And they wanted it to be known in no uncertain terms that they were right behind every concept involved in the Women's Movement, you know what I mean? In other words, if they did things a certain way and if they said things a certain way then maybe later their girlfriends would suck them off because they were saying things that they wanted to hear.

So, consequently, you get these guys—these guys are like the first guys on the block to say "Ms.," in hope that it's gonna get 'em some mileage. And I'm gonna dedicate this song to the three crumpet munching assholes. And their girlfriends. Because I figured that any woman that wants t— any woman that wants to take her little teen-age pants off for a guy like that deserves it.

Hey there, people, I'm Bobby Brown
They say I'm the cutest boy in town
My car is fast, my teeth is shiney
Tell all the girls they can kiss my heinie
Here I am at a famous school
I'm dressin' sharp, I'm actin' cool . . .

Wait a minute, wait a minute. This is just a little bit too fast. Slow it down just— I wanna be able to get all the words out, okay? Let's start all over again. Really.

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
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
I'm gonna get a good job 'n be real rich

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
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

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
Sort of drifted along into S&M
I can stand 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, I'm goin' down
And my name is Bobby Brown

Watch me now because the name of this song is "Conehead."

 

The next song we'd do is— is about the subject of incompetence . . . By the way, I hope the lights and the cameras and everything aren't gonna bother you, you know. We're just going about our business as usual except we're trying not to trip each other with all these wires . . . This song is about the people in California who hold uh, various positions in science, industry, politics, you name it. All these people have one thing in common—they are flakes, they do not do what they are supposed to do. It's impossible in California to get something fixed when you wanna get it fixed—unless of course you're paying off a judge. So, this goes out to them . . .

Flakes! Flakes!
Flakes! Flakes!

They don't do no good
They never be workin'
When they oughta should
They waste your time
They're wastin' mine
California's got the most of them
Boy, they got a host of them

Swear t'God they got the most
At every business on the coast
Swear t'God they got the most
At every business on the coast
They got the Flakes

Flakes! Flakes!

They can't fix yer brakes
You ask 'em, "Where's my motor?"
"Well, it was eaten by snakes . . . "
You can stab 'n shoot 'n spit
But they won't be fixin' it
They're lyin' an' lazy
They can be drivin' you crazy

Swear t'God they got the most
At every business on the coast
Swear t'God they got the most
At every business on the coast
(Take it away, Bob . . . )

I asked as nice as I could
If my job would
Somehow be finished by Friday
The whole damn weekend
Came 'n went, Frankie
(Wanna buy some acid, Bob?)
You know what? They didn't do nothin'
But they charged me double for Sunday

Now, you know, no matter what you do,
They gonna cheat 'n rob you
'N then they'll send you a bill
That'll get your senses reelin'
And if you do not pay
They got computer collectors
That'll get you so crazy
'Til your head'll go through th' ceilin'
Yes it will!

There's a big dilemma
About my Big Leg Emma, uh-huh, oh yeah
There's a big dilemma
About my Big Leg Emma, uh-huh, oh yeah
She used to knock me out
Until her face broke out

There's a big dilemma
About my Big Leg Emma, uh-huh, oh yeah
There's a big dilemma
About my Big Leg Emma, uh-huh, oh yeah
She was my steady date
Until she put on weight

Ma-ma-ma ma-ma-ma
Ma-ma-ma ma-ma-ma
Ma-ma-ma ma-ma-ma
Ma-ma-ma ma-ma-ma
Emma
(Dip!
Too-koo-too koo-too-koo
Too-koo-too too-koo-too)

Ma-ma-ma ma-ma-ma
Ma-ma-ma ma-ma-ma
Ma-ma-ma ma-ma-ma
Ma-ma-ma ma-ma-ma
Emma
(Dip!
Biggiddy boogedy
Bogedy bogedy)

There's a big dilemma
About my Big Leg Emma, uh-huh, oh yeah
There's a big dilemma
About my Big Leg Emma, uh-huh, oh yeah
She used to knock me out
Until her face broke out
She used to knock me out
Until her face broke out
She used to knock me out (yes)
Until her face broke out

And then I said . . .

All right. The name of this song is "Envelopes" . . . That's right, you like that song? You really like that song? You only heard it last night, right? And already you like that song? . . . You never can tell what's gonna happen in a major metropolitan area. Well, ladies and gentlemen, this song features the succulent voice of Tommy Mars, and he will now take it away . . .

You are, are my desire
You come to me
In dreams through a garden wall
It is covered with a lot of dew
And I suppose you're covered too
Just slightly wet
Better yet
You're a stew

You are, are my balloon
You come to me
In dreams through a blue pontoon
It is covered with a lot of dew
And I suppose you're covered too
Just slightly wet
Better yet
Let's go screw

I'm screwing you
I'm screwing you
I'm screwing you
I'm screwing you
Oh boy, I'm doin' it!
I'm really neat
I'm really neat
You're really sweet
You're really sweet

In and out
In and out
In and out
In and out
It's divine
You are mine
You're so fine

Squat on my blaster
Make it go faster
Squat on my blaster
Make it go faster

 

Disco Boy
Run to the toilet, honey,
Comb your hair

Disco Boy
Pucker yer lips,
'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)

Now what am I gonna do with this thing?

Disco Boy!
Run to the toilet boy,
'N comb your hair

Thank you.

Disco Boy!
More than three times 'n yer playin' with it
(WOW!)
While yer standin' there!

Mother pumpkins tonight.

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!

Oh, eat it up now!

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
You never go doody
Doody
You never go doody

Hey!

Rock & roll!

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!

Very nice. Just like my little brother.

Disco Boy,
That's the way it goes,
So wipe your nose,
'N try it again,
To get a little pussy tomorrow!

You can do it!

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!

Oh, jerk it!

It's Disco Love tonight
Make sure you look all right
It's Disco Love tonight
Make sure you look all right

Awright!

 

Many well-dressed people
In several locations
Are kissing quite a bit
(Yea-ah!)
Later in the evening
Leaves will fall
Tears will flow
Wind will blow
Some rain; some snow
A fireplace maybe
A kiss or two
And down they'll go
But that's the way it goes sometimes
You just might find yerself in the clutches of some
Wild Love

Mama stroked his dinger
Daddy got a stinky finger
In those days of long ago
(Yea-ah!)
Later in the evening
She'd complain
They'd refrain
He'd go home 'n hone his bone
A tragic case maybe
But also true
I'm sure you know
That's the way it goes sometimes
You just might find yourself in the clutches of some
Wild Love

Now'days you get dressed up
'N later you get messed up
But still you're pretty hip
(Yea-ah!)
Later in the evening
You'll explain
She'll remain
You're real modern
She's the same
A frantic pace maybe
But who's to say
Where it will go

It was the blackest night
There was no moon in sight
You know the stars ain't shinin'
'Cause the sky's too tight
Heard the scarey wind
I seen some ugly trees
There was a werewolf honkin'
'Long the side of me

I'm mean 'n I'm bad, y'know I ain't no sissy
Got a big-titty girly by the name of Chrissy
Talkin' about her 'n my bike 'n me . . .
'N this ride up the Mountain of Mystery, mystery

I noticed even the crickets
Actin' weird up here
'N so I figured I might
Just drink a little beer
I said, "Gimme summa that what yer suckin' on . . . "
But there was no reply
'Cause she was gone . . .

"Where's those titties I like so well, 'n my goddamn beer!"
Is what I started to yell, then I heard this noise
Like a crunchin' twig, 'n up jumped the Devil . . .
He's about this big . . .

He had a red suit on
An' a widow's peak
An' then a pointed tail
'N like a sulphur reek
Yes, it was him awright,
I knowed it was
He had some human flesh
Stuck underneath his claws
You know, it looked to me
Like it was titty skin
I said, "You sonofabitch!"
'Cause I was mad at him,
Well he just got out his floss
'N started cleanin' his fang
So I shot him with my shooter,
Said: BANG BANG BANG

Then the sucker just laughed 'n said:

Terry:
Put it away . . .
You know, I ate her all up . . . now what you gonna say?

FZ:
You ate my Chrissy?

Terry:
Yeah! Titties 'n all!

FZ:
Well, what about the beer then?

Terry:
Now were the cans this tall?

FZ:
Even her boots?

Terry:
Would I lie to you?

FZ:
Shit, you musta been hungry!

Terry:
Yeah! This is true.

FZ:
Well, don't they pay you good
For the stuff that you do?

Terry:
Well, you know
I can't complain when the checks come through . . .

FZ:
Look here, I want my Chrissy

Terry:
Oh, yeah?

FZ:
'N I want my beer
So you just barf it back up
Now, Devil, do you hear?

Terry:
Look, blow it out your ass, motorcycle man!
I mean, I am the Devil,
Do you understand?
Just what will you give me for your
Titties and beer?
I suppose you noticed this little contract here . . .

FZ:
Yer goddam right, you
Son-of-a-whore
That's about the only reason I learned writin' for . . .
Gimme that paper . . . bet yer horns I'll sign . . .
Because I need a beer,
'N it's titty-squeezin' time!

Terry:
Man, you can't fool me . . . you ain't that bad . . .

FZ:
Oh, yeah?

Terry:
Why, you shoulda seen some of the souls that I've had . . .
There was Milhous Nixon 'n Agnew, too . . .
'N both of those suckers was worse 'n you . . .

FZ:
All right, let's make a deal if you think that's true
I mean, you're supposed to be the Devil so . . .
Whatcha gonna do?

Terry: Well, I don't know what I'm gonna do, I mean, uh . . . I don't know if you're the right cat for the job, you know?
FZ: Yeah.
Terry: I mean, I just don't know about, uh . . . let me [...] the Hell, you know?
FZ: You mean going to Hell is like having a job?
Terry: Say that again.
FZ: You mean going to Hell is like having a job?
Terry: Yeah.
FZ: You mean I have to apply to go to Hell?
Terry: Well, that's what you told me to do in the dressing room.
FZ: Hah hah hah . . . No, you're just supposed to say, "Oh, well, a cloud of doom crosses my mind when you say you want to make a deal with me."
Terry: No, wait a minute! Wait a minute! That's my own shit, I thought we were talking about doing something else.
FZ: Ah! Do that one!
Terry: Okay. Here we go.
FZ: Hit it!
Terry: Cut. (Whistle.) A cloud of doom crosses my mind when you say that you want to make a deal with me.
FZ: Now, I got you worried now, huh?
Terry: Yeah, man, I mean, uh . . .
FZ: Listen . . .

You can have my soul
It's a mean little sucker
'Bout a thousand years old
But once you get it
You can't give it back
You got to keep it forever
And that's a natural fact

FZ: Get the picture?
Terry: Oh, man, now, uh . . . Now you really got me confused.
FZ: I do?
Terry: I mean, what kind of cat are you really, man?
FZ: Hey, look, I'll t—
Terry: What, what I'm getting into here?
FZ: Let me give it to you straight.
Terry: Okay.
FZ: Only because I like you so much, and because you really look good with that particular mask on . . .
Terry: And . . .
FZ: That is a good mask.
Terry: . . . because this mask is so fucking hot . . .
FZ: Hah hah . . .
Terry: . . . then you better get this over with quick.
FZ: I bet it smells really neat inside too.
Terry: Yeah, and this stupid little light here is roasting my weenie.
FZ: Hey . . . Would you— You got the littlest costume on so you're okay.
Terry: Yeah, I know, but still, man . . .
FZ: All right. Look, he—
Terry: There's more skin to burn, you know?
FZ: Here, here is the, the crux of the biscuit, as they say in the trade . . . I don't mind going to Hell. You understand this?
Terry: Yeah.
FZ: I don't care. That doesn't bother me. So long as I achieve my objective.
Terry: What, what objectives, man? What is this?
FZ: Well, look . . . All I am interested in really is titties 'n beer, titties 'n beer . . .
Terry: Oh, no . . .
FZ: Titties 'n beer, titties 'n beer . . .
Terry: No! You can't be serious . . .
FZ: Titties 'n beer, titties 'n beer . . .
Terry: No, please, no, wait, no . . .
FZ: Titties 'n beer, titties 'n beer . . .
Terry: No . . .
FZ: Titties 'n beer, titties 'n beer . . .
Terry: No, no, no, no, that's [...] . . . Oh, no . . .
FZ: Titties 'n beer, titties 'n beer . . .
Terry: Please, wait . . . wait . . .
FZ: Titties 'n beer, titties 'n beer . . .
Terry: WAAAIT!
FZ: Titties 'n beer, titties 'n beer . . .

Terry:
No! Don't ho— Don't sign it! Give me time to think . . .
Hold on a second, boy . . .
'Cause that's Magic Ink!

And then the Devil barfed
'N out jumped m'girl
They heard the titties PLOP-PLOPPIN'
All around the world, she said:

"I GOT ME THREE BEERS 'N A FIST FULLA DOWNS,
AN' I'M GONNA GET RIPPED, SO FUCK YOU CLOWNS!"

Then she gave us the finger,
It was rigid 'n stiff,
That's when the Devil, he farted
An' she went right over the cliff

The Devil was mad
I took off to my pad
I swear I do declare!
How did she get back there?
Swear I do declare!
How did she get back there?
Swear I do declare!
How did she get back there?
Swear I do declare!
How did she get back there?

FZ: All right. Okay. You know what time it is—How you doin'?—You know what time it is now, don't you? That's right, it is audience participation time . . . Okay, now look, how many of you were at the second show last night? . . . All right. I thought that was really good. The guy with the three-piece suit and everything. All right. In fact, I liked that so much I think we should have another dance contest, but we need to have just the right people. There's a girl there—the girl right there. You. Come 'ere. We have a girl. And we have a guy. Hey hey hey . . . What's your name? What's your name?

Jimmy: JIMMY!

FZ: Hey, JIMMY! How you doin', Jimmy?

Jimmy: Alri-i-IGHT! NEW YORK CITY!

FZ: All right, Jimmy. What's your name?

Sheryl: Sheryl!

FZ: Sheryl?

Sheryl: Sheryl Dobbs.

FZ: Sheryl Dobbs?

Sheryl: Yeah.

FZ: Sheryl Dobbs, meet Jimmy. Now, here's the deal. This is very simple. You didn't see the second show last night, did you?

Sheryl: No.

FZ: You didn't? Did you see the second show last night? You didn't see it?

Jimmy: [...]

FZ: Oh, yeah, I know. Sometimes it's so hard to get tickets, you know what I mean? These big rock groups coming to town. Now, look . . .

Jimmy: . . . TONIGHT . . .

FZ: All right, JIMMY! Now, listen. Now, listen. Here's what you need to do. I can tell from the way that you depart yourself that you are very rhythmic individual, right?

Jimmy: YES SIR!

FZ: Okay . . . Not bad. All right, JIMMY! Are you a kind of a dancing kind of a person?

Sheryl: Yes.

FZ: Would you say that you are extremely rhythmic, moderately rhythmic, or . . . ?

Sheryl: Moderately, moderately.

FZ: Are you coming along or are you . . .? I mean . . .

Sheryl: [...]. Right now.

FZ: You like that? Are you nervous?

Sheryl: Yes.

FZ: Why?

Sheryl: I don't know. Don't stop.

FZ: Okay. I'm not gonna stop. I'm not going to . . . No, listen, you've got the deal. Sheryl Dobbs, you have the deal. Now, here's what's going to happen. You are going to dance with JIMMY!

Sheryl: Okay!

FZ: All right?

Sheryl: All right!

FZ: Except that there's a little problem here. You think the beat's okay, 'cause it's going on like that, it's kind of nice right now, but in a minute they're gonna play a song that's got rhythm all over the place and you have to keep on dancing to that. Understand?

Sheryl: I understand.

FZ: All right?

Sheryl: Yep.

FZ: And you can't fuck up, you know?

Sheryl: No, I won't.

FZ: Okay. Now, you guys have to help . . . Hey . . . Just pretend it was a Slade concert, you know what I mean? . . . All right! "The Black Page #2" and may the Lord have mercy on your soul . . .

One! Two! Three! Four!

I-I, Lord,
I'm fo-o-o-ond of chiffo-on
In a wrist array-ee-ay
Oh oh oh oh!
I-I, Lord, I swear I'm fo-o-ond of chiffo-on
In a wri-i-i-i-ist array
Come on, Punky!
Give me your lips!
Right on my penis-tip!

Patrick O'Hearn, Adrian Belew, Tommy Mars, Terry Bozzio, Peter Wolf, Ed Mann, and the audience! Thank you very much for comin' to the show, hope you enjoyed it, good night . . .

Thank you. [...]! Hee-hey! Awright. Oh, excuse me, didn't— Let's play [...]. All right, you already know what the song it's gotta be—you already know how it goes. And because you know how it goes, and because you really know how it goes, you have to help out, clap your hands, sing along, whatever you like . . .

The name of this song is "Dinah-Moe Humm." One, two, three, four!

Couldn't say where she's comin' from
But I just met a lady named Dinah-Moe Humm

Strolled on over, said look here, bum
I got a forty-dollar bill says you can't make me cum
No way, y'jes can't do it

She made a bet with her sister who's a little bit dumb
She could prove it any time all men was scum

I don't mind that she called me a bum
But I knew right away she was really gonna cum
So I got down to it

Whipped off her bloomers 'n stiffened my thumb
An' applied rotation to her sugar plum

I poked 'n stroked till my wrist got numb
Still didn't hear no Dinah-Moe Humm
No Dinah-Moe Humm

Dinah-Moe Humm
Dinah-Moe Humm
Where's this Dinah-Moe
Comin' from
I done spent three hours
An' I ain't got a crumb
From the Dinah-Moe, Dinah-Moe, Dinah-Moe
From the Dinah-Moe Humm

Got a spot that gets me hot
An' you ain't been to it
Got a spot that gets me hot
An' you ain't been to it
Got a spot that gets me hot
You ain't been to it
Got a spot that gets me hot
You ain't been to it

'Cause I can't get into it
Unless I get out of it
An' I gotta be out of it
To get myself into it
'Cause I can't get into it
Unless I get out of it
An' I gotta be out of it
To get myself into it

She looked over at me with a glazed eye
And some bovine perspiration on her upper lip area
And she said . . .

Just get me wasted
An' you're half-way there
'Cause if my mind's tore up
Well, then my body don't care

I rubbed my chinny-chin-chin
An' said my-my-my
What sort of thing
Might this lady get high upon?

The forty-dollar bill didn't matter no more
When her sister got nekkid an' laid on the floor
She said Dinah-Moe might win the bet
But she could use a little ______ if I wasn't done yet

I told her . . .
Just because the sun
Want a place in the sky
No reason to assume
I wouldn't give her a try

So I pulled on her hair
Got her legs in the air
Asked if she had any cooties in there

(What do you mean cooties! No cooties on me!)

She was buns-up kneelin'
(Buns up!)
I was wheelin' an' dealin'
(Wheelin' an' dealin' an' ooooh!)
She surrender to the feelin'
(She sweetly surrendered)
An' She started in to squealin'

Dinah-Moe watched
From the edge of the bed
With her lips just twitchin'
An' her face gone red
Some drool rollin' down
From the edge of her chin
While she spied the condition
Her sister was in

She quivered 'n quaked
Boy, she clutched all over herself
Her sister made a joke
About her mental health
Until Dinah-Moe finally
Did give in
But I told her
All she really needed
Was some discipline
I said . . .

Kiss my aura . . . Dora . . .
That's right! I knew your name was Dora
Dora Schwartz, ladies and gentlemen, stand up and take a bow
Dora, now listen, check this out, Dora
The reason I asked you to kiss my aura, why do you think that was?
Wait?
You have the answer?
That's right, Dora!
I hope you got that on the tape
For those of you who didn't hear it
She said it's because I have no commercial potential
Dora, that is the best reason to kiss anybody's aura, whatever that was
Do you all want some more-a?
Right here on the flora?
An' how 'bout you, Fauna?
Do you wanna?
All right, then!

Couldn't say where she's comin' from
But I just met a lady named Dinah-Moe Humm
(Come 'ere, Roy! Managua!)

Strolled on over, said look here, bum
I got a forty-dollar bill says you can't make me cum
(Come on! Got down to it)

Whipped off her bloomers 'n stiffened my thumb
An' applied rotation to her sugar plum

I poked 'n stroked till my wrist got numb
An' still didn't hear no Dinah-Moe Humm
(Hah hah hah!)
Dinah-Moe Humm
Dinah-Moe
Dinah-Moe
(Carry me)
Dinah-Moe
(Carry me)
Dinah-Moe
(Carry me)
Dinah-Moe
(Carry me)
Dinah-Moe
Ladies and gentlemen, Roy Estrada!

All right, you wanna sing— You wanna sing the next with me? Wanna sing "Camarillo" with me?

All right, we gotta— gotta dedicate the next song to Roy, because he's got it. Okay.

One, two, three, four!

She had that Camarillo brillo
Flamin' out along her head
I mean her Mendocino bean-o
By where some bugs had made it red

She ruled the Toads of the Short Forest
And every newt in Idaho
And every cricket who had chorused
By the bush in Buffalo

She said she was a Magic Mama
And she could throw a mean Tarot
And carried on without a comma
That she was someone I should know

She had a snake for a pet
And an amulet
And she was breeding a dwarf
But she wasn't done yet
She had gray-green skin
A doll with a pin
I told her she was awright
But I couldn't come in
(Actually, Mike, I was really busy then . . . )

And so she wandered through the door-way
Just like a shadow from the tomb
She said her stereo was four-way
An' I'd just love it in her room

Well, I was born to have adventure
So I just followed up the steps
Right past her fuming incense stencher
To where she hung her castanets

She stripped away her rancid poncho
An' laid out naked by the door
We did it till we were un-concho
An' it was useless any more

She had a snake for a pet
And an amulet
And she was breeding a dwarf
But she wasn't done yet
She had gray-green skin
A doll with a pin
I told her she was awright
But I couldn't come in

And so she wandered through the door-way
Just like a shadow from the tomb
She said her stereo was four-way
An', oh God, I would just love it up in her room

Well, I was born to have adventure
(No shit)
So I just followed right on up the steps
Right past her fuming incense stencher
To where she hung her castanets

I chewed my way through her rancid panocha
(D'you know what I'm talking about?)
She laid buck naked by the door, well, well
We did it till we were un-concho
An' it was useless any more
Yes, it was useless any more
Yes, it was useless any more
So it went into this song . . .

Awright!

Girl, you thought he was a man
But he was a muffin
He hung around till you found
That he didn't know nuthin'

Girl, you thought he was a man
But he only was a-puffin'
No cries is heard in the night
As a result of him stuffin'

What do you think about that?

([...]!)

That's what I say!

All right! This is it, folks, this is really the end of the first show tonight. Hey, you know what I mean! Thanks for coming to it! We gotta do it all over again in a couple of minutes. And I know we're probably gonna see a bunch of you for the second show, so all right. That gives you a chance to go and get some popcorn or something. And for the rest of you people, I'll see you the next time. Good night . . .