[Spoken]
Wild Man Fischer: The name of this song—you ready up there? The name of this song is "Merry-Go-Round" . . .
[Sung, with accompaniment by the Bizarre Percussion Ensemble]
C'mon let's merry go, merry go, merry go round! Boop boop boop!
Merry go, merry go, merry go round! Boop boop boop!
Merry go, merry go, merry go round! Boop boop boop!
Me and you can go merry go round!
It's very easy, just go up and down!
C'mon, c'mon let's merry go, merry go, merry go round! Boop boop boop!
Merry go, merry go, merry go round! Boop boop boop!
Merry go, merry go, merry go round! Boop boop boop!
Everybody's going merry go round!
Let us go-ho-ho uh-up and down!
C'mon, c'mon let's merry go, merry go, merry go round! Boop boop boop!
Merry go, merry go, merry go round! Boop boop boop!
Merry go, merry go, merry go round! Boop boop boop!
Mary taught me to go merry go round!
We're all going merry go round!
C'mon, c'mon let's merry go, merry go, merry go round! Boop boop boop!
Merry go, merry go, merry go round! Boop boop boop!
Merry go, merry go, merry go round!
I say let's merry go, merry go, merry go round!
I say let's merry go, merry go, merry go . . .
[open with street noise]
WMF: Original songs for sale. Sir, would you like to hear an original song for a dime? I swear to God it's original.
Girl: I don't have any money.
[long pause; more street noise]
WMF: What do you think of the song? You think it's worth it?
Weasel: It's worth it.
WMF: Would you tell everyone in your neighborhood that my songs are worth a dime?
Weasel: I tell everyone in my neighborhood! Now go get your dimes and go find Wild Man Fischer! Y'got get my dollar for sayin' that? Huh huh ha ha ha . . .
WMF: You better—you owe me money for that song! I gave you a free song, man!
Weasel: I know . . .
[pause]
WMF: Sir, would you like to hear an original song for a dime?
Girl: I already heard you over there.
WMF: You don't—How am I sounding over here? . . .
[chatter chatter]
WMF: "Merry-Go-Round"? D'you like the song?
Mitzi: Yeah!
Duane: No, not "Merry-Go-Round"! No, sing me another one!
WMF: Which one?
Duane: I dunno, whatever one you want.
WMF:
Miami Beach! Yeah, yeah!
What a beach! Yeah, yeah!
Everybody's goin' surfin'
At Miami Beach!
Duane: All right!
WMF: Malibu's cold! Yeah, yeah -
Lynette: Fischer, you're insane!
WMF: Oh ya cut that out! I'm not insane!!
Lynette: Fischer, Fischer . . .
WMF: Would you like to hear an original song -
Shel: Yeah, Larry -
WMF: —for a dime?
Credo: Do your thing, Fischer!
WMF: You got a dime?
Shel: What? Larry, how m-
WMF: Shh! Be quiet.
Shel: How much stuff have I given you in my store? Sing me your song.
Lynette: Fischer, what sign are you? He's gotta be, uh -
WMF: I'm gonna be on "Laugh-In", uh, September 23.
Lynette: Fischer, what sign are you?
Shel: He's a Libra.
WMF: Scorpio.
Shel: No, you're a Libra.
Lynette: Scorpio? You're a sex sign!
Credo: Ho ho ho, Fischer, you devil! [general laughter]
Shel: Fischer, sing me a song.
Credo: You're an original -
WMF: Okay -
Shel: Okay, c'mon, Larry, gimme the song.
Credo: Let's go.
WMF: [sings]
Let me ask you this question
This most important question
Is it over for you?
Is it over for me?
Doont doo-doo doont doo doo
Bum bum
Shel: Very good, Larry.
[pause for traffic noise]
WMF: Get your original songs here! Sir, would you like to hear an original song for a dime?
Girl: No, thank you.
[more traffic noise]
WMF: . . . I gotta find those sunglasses! Sir, would you like to hear an original song for a dime?
Bill: I already know all your original songs.
WMF: So what?!
Bill: What is this for?
Bob: Larry, whaddaya doing?!
WMF: I'm selling songs!
Bob: You're working, boy!
WMF: Whataya mean, workin'! Just for one night . . .
Bob: —up again. You don't need that knife.
WMF: Yes I do. I need some dimes.
Bob: Are you still working for Frank?
WMF: No, I don't mind not workin'. I need my dimes.
Bob: Ya blew it?
WMF: Ah, I jumped over, I started, start, shhht, razor, was started slashing my throat -
Bob: You are?
[pause]
WMF: . . . little bit of that drink too?
Doff: Sure.
Don: Wild Man!
WMF: [mouth full] Wanna hear a song? Or y'are -
Don: Yeah, I'd like to hear a song.
WMF: For a dime?
Don: I don't have a dime.
Dick: Huh, this is, this is, this is good enough for a song.
WMF: All right, muhhnn . . .
[snicker]
WMF: What song d'you—wanna hear?
Don: "Merry-Go-Round".
WMF:
C'mon let's merry go, merry go, merry go round! Boop boop boop!
[audience laughs]
Merry go, merry go, merry go round! Boop boop boop!
Merry go, merry go, merry go round! Boop boop boop!
Me and you can go merry go round!
It's very easy, just go up and down!
C'mon let's merry go, merry go, merry go round, boop boop . . .
WMF: . . . Y'wanna hear an original song for a dime?
Frodo: I don't have no bread, man.
WMF: D'you wanna hear a song for a dime? 'S original, I swear . . .
Weesa: Want some Cracker Jack?
WMF: D'you wanna hear an original -
Frodo: I hear you're gonna be on the show . . .
WMF: Yeah, I'm gonna be on "Laugh-In" September 23.
Frodo: Oh yeah? That's heavy.
WMF: It was really good. Like Dick Martin goes up and introduces me and he looks at me, y'know, he just, y'know, my hair, 's just thinkin' about my hair and I gave him a dirty look and I sang "Leaves Are Falling", then I walk offstage and go like that and then they had me do "Merry-Go-Round" and then some old lady drags me offstage and then they had me go back—well, never mind, watch the show, it's good. I'm the greatest! I mean—shit, man, all those other guys, they need guitars . . . [onlookers laugh] I mean I don't need nothin'! Huh? I don't need anything!
[more street noise with inaudible but probably inconsequential chatter]
WMF: You gonna get my album when it comes out?
Lorna: You makin' an album too, man?
WMF: Yeah?
Duane: Hey, sing me another song, brother! Hey, do you have a penny, thermometer? (????????)
Terry: Nope. Thpppff!
Duane: Hold it! We want another song.
WMF: What song?
Duane: . . . a nickel or anything at all?
Someone: "Miami Beach"?
Terry: Anybody have a nickel or—gffmmff!
WMF: Naw, uh . . .
Duane: "Carousel"! . . . "Merry-Go-Round"!
WMF: [sings]
C'mon let's do the Taster when my love was so grayster -
gimme a dime.
Duane: Hey, give him a nickel or penny. Anybody got a nickel or penny so he'll sing a song? C'mon now! A nickel or penny so he'll sing a song . . .
Argh: Robbers! Robbers!
Duane: I wanna hear him sing a song!
WMF: I gotta pay my rent!
Duane: Hey, up there, brother! (????????)
WMF: . . . Original songs!
Mudslide: Who wants to hear 'em?
Outre: Ha ha ha . . .
[Bits of chatter intelligible from street noise and Art Tripp; further confusion with studio overdub of WMF grunting and squeaking the rhythm for "The Leaves Are Falling". There is one more bit of discernible street dialogue:]
WMF: Is that your dog? Looks more like you!
Lorna: [laughing in spite of herself] That's not funny!
WMF: It does! Y'oughta look in the mirror!
[The sounds of the street peter out and only Art Tripp's artful percussion remains. Then -]
WMF: Lyupdubdedoodedip—ssshhhhhhhhhh!!!! . . . Ssssshhhhhhhhhhhhhhh . . . !! [kissing noise; whispers] "I love you, Mother!" [another kiss; motherly falsetto] "Love you too, Larry!" [kiss] Nnn nkk nkk nn nkk nkk—heh heh heh . . . nn nkk nkk nn nkk nkk nn nkk, nn nkk nkk nkk nkk nkk nkk, nn nkk nkk nkk nkk . . . [street talk fades back in] Call that doing your thing? Course not! Heh heh heh . . .
Duane: Spare change? Spare change? Better g— join, join the Wild Man Fischer Fan Club! Spare change, please!
[street noise fades out again; rustle of paper]
WMF: Bastards!
WMF: Are ya ROLLIN'?? ARE YA ROLLIN'??!!! [pause] . . . Are ya rollin'? My name is Larry, I'm I used to be shy, I'm not shy anymore, y'wanna be friends? Uh-hhh—I'm not shy anymore, My name is Larry. "What's your name?" Larry. Larry. Yeah, my name is Larry. I'm not shy anymore. I'm not shy anymore, I used to be shy but I'm not shy anymore! 'Body used to say "Oh, there's Larry—walking down the street! He doesn't TALK to anybody!! He's c— he's—" But I've changed, Montez, I've CHANGED! I'm gonna be the NEW Larry! I'm not shy anymore! . . . all right . . . [Art Tripp accompanies WMF on the following:] . . . shy anymore—I'm not shy anymore, I used to be shy but I'm not shy anymore! We're gonna be friends, we're gonna be all of us, the whole everybody on this neighborhood's gonna be friends!! Jeez, I'm not shy anymore, I used to by shy, but I'm not shy . . . I'm not shy, I've changed . . .
Lynette: What's your name?
WMF: My name is Larry.
Lynette: Larry Fischer? Are you from Albuquerque, uh, Clovis?
WMF: No, I'm from, uh -
Lynette: Er, uh hh—no, are you really? [WMF guffaws] Aw, you're not hi— Fischer, you crazy dog!
WMF: [trailing off into background] Let's get out of here!
Lynette: Hey, really, I just—are you from New Mexico?
WMF: Yeah!
Lynette: Yeah? I met your cousin.
WMF: Who?
Lynette: In New Mexico. In Clovis.
WMF: What's his name?
Lynette: We smoke grass together. I don't -
WMF: Look at my ring!
Lynette: I don't know his name.
WMF: Two bucks, man! Look at it!
Lynette: I don't know his name. Whatta you got there—ah w— I don't want
WMF: What's his name?
Lynette: Seriously -I don't know, he was tall and bald-headed, sort of . . .
WMF: [makes kissy noise] Kiss me, wouldja. [giggles]
Lynette: Really, now look! Look here, juni— uh, where you from in New Mexico?
WMF: Nah, I'm originally from here, I lied to you.
Lynette: Really?
WMF: You said I was from New Mexico.
Lynette: Larry, oh you were sno— he's in Frisco. San Francisco.
WMF: Heh—I'm from here!
Lynette: Oh go cr-
WMF: I am from here! Ain't I from here!
Somebody: Right.
Lynette: Fischer, you're insane.
WMF: No, I'm not.
Lynette: You are! You're insane.
WMF: No, I'm not. Y'wanna hear a song, y'gotta dime?
Lynette: You're insane, Fischer!
WMF: No, I'm NOT INSANE!
Lynette: You are—!
WMF: I'M NOT INSANE!!!
[Kim F. delivers the prophecy, and Rodney B. provides accompaniment on the piano and chimes in with the occasional aside. Art Tripp makes with the percussion throughout.]
Kim Fowley: Ladies and gentlemen and those who aren't sure, the glorious day in pop music has thusly arrived. It has been decreed that a Jewish mother shall be given birth, or shall give birth—which is it, Rodney, give birth to or given—? Anyway, a Jewish kid's gonna make it big, man. It is now time for the beautiful people like Donovan . . . Mickey Rooney . . . one of the Beatles to step aside because a growling savage has hurled himself from the precipice of the lava-stained ledgers of the Sunset Strip, leaping out the Eating Affair . . . A jackass king storming through the petrols of the planetary galaxies. At last we have an idol . . . we have Wild Man Fischer! Who is gonna take us from the darkness and out of the fog and the dampness . . . He's gonna take us into bruises and cuts and bandages, baby, and iodine! . . . Wild Man Fischer is going to get us back in the parking lot—HITTING EACH OTHER WHERE WE BELONG! NO MORE LOVE AND FLOWERS!!—because Wild Man Fischer is standing naked leading us up the anthill towards greatness after all . . . We teenagers need a idol . . . We teenagers of the street and the suburbs need an idol (urp!) . . . We pseudo-intellectuals of the high schools and junior colleges need an idol . . . We record producers need a new artist to imitate with our groups . . . and we teenyboppers—scream out, teenyboppers! [low gnarly snork a la Dick Barber]
KF & RB: Wiiild . . . Maaaan . . . Fiiiischerrrrr . . .
KF: Somewhere a girl has cut her throat and slit her ankles—the reason for her love death is . . .
KF & RB: Wiiiild . . . Maaaan . . . Fiiiischerrrrr . . .
KF: Somewhere a young homosexual boy gets ready to burn his red silk underwear because he has just seen the sweatshirt and jersey of . . .
KF & RB: Wiiiild . . . Maaaan . . . Fiiiischerrrrr . . .
KF: Somewhere deep inside the Los Angeles County jail, they are digging away underneath the red brick underwear rooms called cells, where a guard has taken a certain dangerous drug called hope, and he too seeks for . . .
KF & RB: Wiiiiild . . . Maaaaaan . . . Fiiiischerrrrr . . .
KF: As the flying saucers [suitable eerie vocal noise by RB] ever presently soaring through our universe, getting ready to make their appeal to our mutant species, have agreed in a council of Jupiter war crimes pact at the last fifth-dimensional galaxy, that when it is time for an Earth leader to arise from the ashes, they will come down and share with us their ingenious way of life—if the spaceships come down and ask for our leader -
KF & RB: WILD—MAN—FISCHERRRRR!!!! . . .
KF: [with the same eerie vocal noise as before by RB] If ever an evangelist should come to the Sunset Strip searching for the answer to what has gone wrong with all of us teenagers, we will point towards the Colonial West on the Sunset Strip in Hollywood, and we will cry out as loud as we can -
KF & RB: [weakly] Wiiilld Maan Fischerrr-r-r-r-r . . .
KF: All—the—groups—will imitate him . . .
RB: [sings] Merry go, merry go -
KF & RB: Merry go round!
RB: Toot toot! Tootootoo tootootoo tootoo . . .
KF: [sing-song]
It's just been heard from the West Coast
That a new sensation's com-ing
His name is Wild Man Fischer
His personality is rather cun-ning!
RB: Ye-aaah!
KF:
He's hard rock
He's off beat
He's left field and he
Never yields to the establishment's position on the way of life his wife is beaten down on in the ground! (???????)
And then on page twenty-seven, Roulette Records says:
We have a guy named Wild Man Tony
And he's not a phony
Like Wild Man Fischer
This is no baloney
He is left field
He is out of sight and he -
Wait a minute! The Puerto Rican market, they have Wild Man Rodriguez!
RB: Who's he?
KF: That's Wild Man with Spanish boogaloo drums on his records . . .
RB: Oink, oink!
KF: That's Wild Man Rodriguez . . . Soon all of America was overcome by Wild Man Fischer fever! [sings] Wild Man Fischer! Let's say it again -
KF & RB: Wild—Man—FischerRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR . . . !!
RB: Maybe for President!!
KF: Wait a minute! We forgot one thing! Play a Beatle lick, play something like "Day in the Life"—the big rumble in "Day in the Life" that goes crunching out, you know . . . [RB obliges] It had to happen. It HAD to happen. A junior college student on summer holiday in London has brought a Wild Man Fischer album to the Beatles! Right now the Beatles are listening to this album!! [RB strikes up an inspiring tune] Wild Man Fischer is the next Beatles, Beatles . . . and he is going to COME ACROSS AMERICA like a RED DRAGON! He is going to BE the next Beatles in fact, and Elvis Presley and Colonel Parker shake in their mansion because they too know that they're being challenged . . . For all over the world boys and girls are rising up in the madness and ecstasy, to proclaim—[sobbing with joy(?)]—that in fact there' one leader, and all over the land can be heard their chanting voices . . .
KF & RB: Wiiild . . . Maaan . . . Fischerrrr . . . Wiiiild . . . Man . . . Fischer -
KF: They will come running out of every door . . . they'll come running out of every window . . . Pretty soon the boys will sing: Wild Man Fischer! Wild Man Fischer! Wild Man Fischer! [enter the GTO's squealing with typical girlish glee] Wild Man Fischer!! Wild Man Fischer!! Yaaaay! How 'bout that, girls! Yaaaay!! Wild Man Fischer!! Wait a minute! Girls! Who do you wanna make love to?
GTO's: Wild—Man—Fischer!!!
KF: Girls! Who is your idol?!
Miss Johna: Mmm, I really think a lot of Wild Man Fischer for his courage, y'know . . . it's—God, he has so much courage! The first time I saw him at the Whiskey, he was just up there with so much courage! He just did whatever came into his head, he did, you know, like—wooow! I just had to run up to him and say "Oh! Just come with me, Wild Man!" I didn't b— oh! I couldn't believe it!
[Spoken]
Frank Zappa: Larry, introduce each song, okay? Tell, tell what the song is and a little bit about it, okay, when I give you the signal . . .
WMF: Okay . . . This song is called "Which Way Did the Freaks Go?" It's a put-down on Frank Zappa and the Mothers of Invention and it's a put-down on, uh, President Johnson.
[Sung]
Which way did my girl go?
Which way did she go?
Which way did my girl go?
Which way did she go-bo-bo-bo-bo Go-bo-bo-bo-bo Go-bo-bo-bo-bo-bo-bo?
Correction!
Which way did the freaks go?
Which way did they go?
Which way did the freaks go?
Which way did they go-bo-bo-bo-bo Go-bo-bo-bo-bo Go-bo-bo-bo-bo-bo-bo?
I ask you, Mr. Zappa
I ask you very clear
You didn't state in your Freak Out album
Which way the freaks went!
I say now
Which way did the freaks go?
Which way did they go?
Which way did the freaks go?
Which way did they go-bo-bo-bo-bo Go-bo-bo-bo-bo Go-bo-bo-bo-bo-bo-bo?
I ask you, Mr. Johnson
I ask you very clear
When the freaks freaked in front of the White House
You went into second gear!
I say now
Which way did the freaks go?
Which way did they go?
Which way did the freaks go?
Which way did they go-bo-bo-bo-bo Go-bo-bo-bo-bo Go-bo-bo-bo-bo-bo-bo?
[Spoken]
WMF: The name of this song is called "The Federal Bureau of Narcotics".
[Sung]
I'm working for the Federal Bureau of Narcotics
Doont doont doont doont, doont doont doont doont
Doont doont doont doont doo-ooooo
My mother hates me
My sister despises me
My brother-in-law—shwiiit!—likes to throw darts at me
Federal Bureau
Federal Bureau
Federal Bureau tooooo
The Federal Bureau too
I'm working for the Federal Bureau of Narcotics
Doont doont doont doont, doont doont doont doont
Doont doont doont doont doo-oooooooooonn!!
Johnson loves me
Reagan adores me
Sandy Koufax—shwiiit!—likes to throw fastballs at me
Federal Bureau
Federal Bureau Federal Bureau Federal Bureau
FederalBureauFederalBureauFederalBureau
Stayawayfrommestayawayfromme
FederalBureauFederalBureau
Federal BUREAU!!!!
[Spoken]
FZ: Soon as you get your shoe tied, we're rolling.
[long pause]
WMF: Shoe's tied, Frank! [another pause] "The Leaves Are Falling".
["Sung"]
Mmmmmmmmm . . .
Nrr nnt nnt nyrr nnt nnt nyrr nnt nnt nyrr nnt nnt
Mmm-mmm mmm, mmm, mmmm-mmm mmm!
Nnt nnt nyrr nnt nnt nyrr nnt nnt nyrr
Mmm-mmm!
Nnt nnt nyrr nnt nnt nyrr nnt nnt nyrr
The leaves are falling!
[almost inaudible whistle]
Mmmmmmmmm . . .
Mmm-mmm mmm, mmm, mmmm-mmm mmm!
Nnt nnt nyrr nnt nnt nyrr nnt nnt nyrr
Mmm-mmm!
Nnt nnt nyrr nnt nnt nyrr nnt nnt nyrr ntt
Mmm-mmm mmm-mmm mmm mmmm mmmmmm . . . [gasps for breath]
Mmm mmm mmmm mmmm mmmmmmmm . . .
[repeat almost inaudible whistle]
Eighty-five times I've walked down that street
Eighty-five times I don't like that street
Oh yeah, doont doont-doont doont doont
Oh yeah, doont doont-doont doont doont
Oh, not seventy-nine, not a hundred and nine, not sixty-nine, not forty-nine,
Not twenty-nine, not three hundred and nine, not five hundred and twenty-nine!
Eighty-five times I'm walkin' down that street
Eighty-five times I took a glance at your feet
Oh yeah, doont doont-doont doont doont
Oh yeah, doont doont-doont doont doont
Oh yeah, doont doont-doont doont doont
Oh eighty-five times
Eighty-five times
Eighty-five times
Eighty-five times, times I walked down that street . . .
Well, Johnny and Bill wanted to play cops and robbers with me . . .
This is what I said:
No cops
No robbers
No cops
No robbers
No cops
No robbers
Todaaaay, budda bum today
Budda bum today
Budda bum today
Budda bum today! Day! Day!
We went to the store
We bought some gum, yay yay!
Then we went to the drive-in show
We had a lot of fun
Then Bill all of a sudden said to me,
"Daddy, how come you don't wanna play cops and robbers with me?"
This is what I said:
No cops
No robbers
No cops
No robbers
No cops
No robbers
Todaaaay, budda bum today
Budda bum today
Budda bum today
Budda bum today
We came home from the show
Feeling very tired
Then Bill all of a sudden said to me,
"Daddy, how come you don't wanna play cops and robbers with me?"
This is what I said:
No cops
No robbers
No cops
No robbers
No cops
No robbers
Todaaaay, budda bum today
Budda bum today
Budda bum today
Budda bum today! Day!
Budda bum today . . .
Ba ba-ba ba ba, ba ba-ba ba ba
Ba ba-ba ba ba bow
Ba ba-ba ba ba, ba ba-ba ba ba
Ba ba-ba ba ba baaa
Ba BAW ba-ba-ba ba-ba ba-ba-ba!
Er eh-eh er eh-eh er er!
I'll take my monkeys, you'll take your donkeys
We'll have a race right now
I'll bet my monkeys, I getcher donkeys
The better will win right now! Ow!
Ba ba-ba ba ba, ba ba-ba ba ba
Ba ba-ba ba ba bow
Ba ba-ba ba ba, ba ba-ba ba ba
Ba ba-ba ba ba baaa
Ba BAW ba-ba-ba ba-ba ba-ba-ba!
Er eh-eh er eh-eh er er!
Monkeys versus donkeys, monkeys versus donkeys
Monkeys versus donkeys now
Can't you see that my monkeys are beatin' yer donkeys
It's-a quite a race right now! Ow!
Ba ba-ba ba ba, ba ba-ba ba ba
Ba ba-ba ba ba bow
Ba ba-ba ba ba, ba ba-ba ba ba
Ba ba-ba ba ba baaa
Doont doont doo-doo doon-doont doont! Boop boop!
Doont doont doo-doo doon-doont doont! Boo boo!
Can'tcha see they're going around the turn now?
Doont doont doo-doo doon-doont doont! Doont doont!
Doont doont doo-doo doon-doont doont! Doont doont!
Oh, monkeys versus donkeys, monkeys versus donkeys
Monkeys versus donkeys now
Can't you see that my monkeys have beaten yer donkeys
The race is over now! Ow!
Ba ba-ba ba ba, ba ba-ba ba ba
Ba ba-ba ba ba baaa
Ba ba-ba ba ba, ba ba-ba ba ba
Ba ba-ba ba ba baaa
Monkeys versus donkeys, monkeys versus donkeys
Monkeys versus donkeys—brrrrrrrrrroooo!
Monkeys versus donkeys, monkeys versus donkeys
Monkeys versus donkeys—brrrrrrrrrroooo!
Monkeys versus donkeys, monkeys versus donkeys
Monkeys versus donkeys—brrrrrrrrrroooo!
Monkeys versus donkeys . . .
If I only could see you again
I would start my life all over again
If I only could see you again
I would start my life all over again
Doont da doont doont doo-doo doo doo
Doont da doont doont doo-doo doo doo
Dear Betty
Doont da doont doont doo-doo doo doo
Doont da doont doont doo-doo doo doo
My father used to beat me up every night—just for being alive!
Doont da doont doont doo-doo doo doo
Doont da doont doont doo-doo doo doo
Y'see my mother died when I was five—God bless her!
Doont da doont da doo-doo doo doo
Doont da doont da doo-doo doo doo
You were the only thing I ever had
So we walked into our marriage ??????????
And we had a baby boy and I -
Ah ah aah aaaaaah
Ah ah aah aaaaaah
Ah ah aah aaaaaah
Ah ah aah aaah
—sold 'im—for five thousand dollars!
Doont da doont doont doo-doo doo doo
Doont da doont doont doo-doo doo doo
So buddy if you get me outta this cotton-pickin' prison,
I'll dig up the five thousand dollars I buried
And start life all over again
If I only could see you again
I would start my life all over again
If I only could see you again
I would start my life all over again
Well a hill, toe a top, toe a flap, toe a rep
Toe a right, toe a left, toe a shoe, toe a pigeon toe
Everybody's doin' a thing called the mope [tongue cluck]
The mope Dip dip de dip dip dip dip
Wham wham a wham wham wham
Around and around and around we must go
To do, do the dance that the mopey people do
It's easy, it's good and it ain't hard to learn
You're the mope [cluck] ????????
The mope
Well a hill, toe a top, toe a flap, toe a rep
Toe a right, toe a left, toe a shoe, toe a pigeon toe
Gather around and we'll all do the mope [cluck]
The mope
Dim dim de dim dim dim dim
Whim whim a whim whim whim
Up and-a back and-a up we shall go
Doin' the things that are forward and slow
If you don't know how to do it's easy to learn
You're the mope [cluck]
The mope
Well a hill, toe a top, toe a flap, toe a right
Toe a right, toe a left, toe a shoe, toe a pigeon toe
Circle around and we'll all do the mope [cluck]
The mope
Shi shi shi-shi shi-shi shi
Bim bim ba bim bim bim They're doing the mope in New York
They're teaching the mope in Philly
They're dancing the mope in L.A.
Now everyone is doing a thing called the mope [cluck]
The mope [cluck]
The mope [cluck]
The mope [cluck]
The mope [cluck]
The mope . . .
My life is all brand new
Ever since I met you
Whoa whoa whoa whoa
I used to stay home at night, doo doont doo doo
Do nothin' but stare at the lights
Whoa whoa whoa whoa
Now I'm spendin' my evenings with you
Hand in hand we are two
Whoa whoa whoa whoa
Doo doont doont doont doo-doo doont—duh doo duh doo
Doont doont doont doo-doo doont—duh doo duh doo
Doont doont doont doo-doo doont Whoa whoa whoa whoa
My life is all brand new
'Cause all my dreams are a-comin' true
Whoa whoa whoa whoa
There's a moon out tonight, doo doont doo doo
The whole world is at our sight
Whoa whoa whoa whoa
My life is all brand new
My life is all brand new
My life is all brand new
[Spoken]
WMF: This song is called "Who Did It Johnny?"
[Dialogue spoken, refrain sung]
You tell me, you tell me, you tell me you want to live
You tell me, you tell me, you tell me you want to live
Oh Johnny, oh Johnny, who did it Johnny?
Doo da doo hoo, doo da doo hoo
Doo da doo hoo, doo da doo hoo
Johnny, I'm gonna ask you a very important question:
Who killed Mary Ann?
Doo da doo hoo, doo da doo hoo
Doo da doo hoo, doo da doo hoo
I don't know! But I didn't do it! I didn't do it!
I swear to you I didn't do it!
You tell me, you tell me, you tell me you want to live
You tell me, you tell me, you tell me you want to live
Oh Johnny, oh Johnny, who did it Johnny?
Doo da doo hoo, doo da doo hoo
Doo da doo hoo, doo da doo hoo
Oh Johnny, was it Billy? Oh Johnny, was it Willy?
That's it! IT WAS WILLY! I SWEAR! IT WASN'T ME, IT WAS WILLY! IT WASN'T ME! THAT'S WHO IT WAS! WILLY! WILLY!!!
Now calm down calm down . . .
You tell me, you tell me, you tell me you want to live
You tell me, you tell me, you tell me you want to live
Oh Johnny, oh Johnny, who did it Johnny?
Doo da doo hoo, doo da doo hoo
Doo da doo hoo, doo da doo hoo
Well Willy, Johnny says you did it . . .
Doo da doo hoo, doo da doo hoo
Doo da doo hoo, doo da doo hoo
Well, if he says I did it, I did it!
You tell me, you tell me, you tell me you want to live
Oh Johnny, oh Johnny, who did it Johnny?
Doo da doo hoo (old rock'n'roll song . . . )
[Spoken, with listless plinking on guitar in background]
WMF: I didn't write this song . . . Is it rolling back there? I didn't write this song—Buck Owens, a very famous country and western song wrote the song—it's called "Think of Me", like—[sings] "Think of me when yer
lonely"—but, uh, I changed the title.
[Sung with tuneless banging on guitar in background]
Think of me when your clothes are off
Think of me when your clothes are off
Think of me when your clothes are off
For I'll be thinking of you
Doooo doo doo doo-doo doo doo dooooo
Doooo doo doo doo-doo doo doo dooooo
Think of me when your clothes are off
For I'll be thinking of you
[Spoken]
WMF: Country and western songs—I like to sing country and western songs. Then there's Bob Dylan, y'know . . . [Resumes banging on guitar] Here's a folk song I wrote . . .
[Sung]
Hey ho, Taggy Lee, you remind me of me
Hey ho, Taggy Lee, hey hey ho
You bring back those memories, oh my dear, oh Taggy Lee
Hey ho, Taggy Lee, hey hey ho
[Spoken]
WMF: I wrote a song called "Taggy Lee", that's about a girl I used to play tag with when I was younger, and she reminded me, y'know, of me, y'know . . . and I'm still playing tag, y'know, heh heh . . .
Rhon—da, da da da Rhon—da, da da da
Rhon—da, da da da Rhon—da, da da da
Rhon—da da, how I love you, Rhon—da da da Rhon—da da, how I need you,
Rhon—da da da
Rhon—da, da da da Rhon—da, da da da
Rhon—da, da da da Rhon—da, da da da
Rhon—da da, there is no one else
Doont doo da Rhon—da, you're the only one
That I'll ever lo-o-ove, oh do do Rhon—da, da da da Rhon—da, da da da
Rhon—da, da da da Rhon—da, da da da
Rhon—da, da da da Rhon—da, da da da
Rhon—da, da da da Rhon—da . . .
[Spoken]
WMF: I'm getting paid for this, ain't I, Frank?
FZ: Yes you are.
WMF: Was that [unintelligible] pay later? ???????????
FZ: What?
WMF: I don't know if I have the energy to do "Jennifer Jones". Let me do a resting song in between here . . .
FZ: Okay, resting song.
WMF: I'll give you "I Looked Around You".
[Sung]
I looked around you, and what did I see?
I looked around you, oh but gee
Bow bow bow BOW
Bow BOW bow bow
Bow bow bow BOW
Bow BOW bow bow
We went strolling through the park that night
Did a little twist with a jelly spice
Turned around and I said to you
"There's a cock-a-roach in back of you!"
I looked around you, what did I see?
I looked around you, oh but gee
Bow bow bow BOW
Bow BOW bow bow
Bow bow bow BOW
Bow BOW bow bow
We went strolling down the river that night
Everything seemed just-a kinda nice
Turned around and I said to you
"There's a rhinoceros comin'—straight at you!"
I looked around you, and what did I see?
I looked around you, oh but gee
Bow bow bow BOW
Bow BOW bow bow
Bup bup bup bow, bow, bow, bow
Bup bup bup bow, bow, bow, bow . . .
[Entirely spoken, except for the refrain:]
Miss Jennifer Jones is lying dead on my porch, doont doo-doo doo-ooon!
Miss Jennifer Jones!
The story of this song starts out in Nebraska. I had a farm, a cow, a penguin and a Negro slave.
Miss Jennifer Jones is lying dead on my porch, doont doo-doo doo-ooon!
Miss Jennifer Jones!
The very next day a kid around three foot five came around my house—started throwin' avocados at my cow! carrots at my penguin! he threw a rotten tomato at my penguin! it was terrible so I killed him. Blood was coming out of his nose, it was coming out of everywhere, oh it was terrible!!
Miss Jennifer Jones is lying dead on my porch, doont doo-doo doo-ooon!
Ah Miss Jennifer Jones!
So the very next day the grandfather came, the grandmother came, the grandchildren came—oh they tried to kill me so I started shootin' 'em—kssh kssh kssh kssh! Oh, they were just lying dead all over the place! So I told my slave to put 'em in the garage.
Miss Jennifer Jones is lying dead on my porch, doont doo-doo doo-ooon!
Ah Miss Jennifer Jones!
[coughs] (Excuse me) Doont doo-doo doo-ooon . . .
Ah Miss Jennifer Jones!
Oh it was becoming a terrible thing, the sheriff was coming around and all his deputies . . . I was killing everybody! Oh my garage, it looked like Hitler's Nazi camp, it was terrible!! I killed everybody in the territory!!
Miss Jennifer Jones is lying dead on my porch, doont doo-doo doo-ooon!
Ah Miss Jennifer Jones!
So let's get to the other half of this story . . . We talk about Jennifer Jones. (Doont doo-doo doo-ooon . . . ) She lived in Massachusetts . . . (Doont doo-doo doo-ooon . . . ) And she, uh, she used to be, uh, a small-time hooker, she only charged like, uh, twenty-five dollars a throw—SO ONE DAY SOMEBODY WOULDN'T PAY HER! SO SHE KILLED HIM!! Oh, it was all bad, blood comin' out of everywhere . . . she had to run from the scene!
Miss Jennifer Jones is lying dead on my porch, doont doo-doo doo-ooon!
Ah Miss Jennifer Jones! Doont doo-doo doo -
Everybodyandtheycameafterhershekilled—oh, she just hated men! She went, oh she'd go to bars and she'd look in the bars and she'd go, "Me-en!!" . . . and she'd start shootin' 'em—kssh kssh kssh kssh! Ears would fall off—oh it was terrible! SHE WAS THE MOST WANTED WOMAN IN MASSACHUSETTS!!!
Miss Jennifer Jones is lying dead on my porch, doont doo-doo doo-ooon!
Ah Miss Jennifer Jones!
So Miss Jennifer Jones bein' so wanted an' everything started comin' t'wards MY way! (Doont doo-doo doo-ooon . . . ) Coming closer! (Doont doo-doo doo-ooon . . . ) And closer, heh heh! (Doont doo-doo doo) Finally she got around to my territory—she went around, she went lookin' for people—SHE COULDN'T FIND NOBODY!! "Where is everybody, ooh this is terrible!"
Miss Jennifer Jones is lying dead on my porch, doont doo-doo doo-ooon!
Ah Miss Jennifer Jones!
So finally she kept looking and looking and looking—she finally got to my house and she said, "How come there's nobody around here?" So I told her, I said, "Go look in my garage!" So she went over to my garage and she goes, "Oh . . . ohhh!! . . . " And she came back to me and she said "Who killed all those people in your garage, did y'ever see it?!!" "It's my garage, I've seen it."
Miss Jennifer Jones is lying dead on my porch, doont doo-doo doo-ooon!
Ah Miss Jennifer Jones!
So she got all uptight an' screamed an' everythin' an' she said, "You're mean! You're a terrible person!! I'm gonna KILL YOU!!!" KSSSH!! . . . and there she was—dead on my porch!!!
Miss Jennifer Jones is lying dead on my porch, doont doo-doo doo-ooon!
I say Jennifer Jones! Doont doo-doo doo-ooon . . .
C'mon, let's do the Taster when my love was so grayster
When the things of the past were just as good as the reh-eh-est
Well I knew a girl, ah just a one certain girl
Who taught me the Taster and it's good as the Twist-er
C'mon, let's do the Taster when my love was so grayster
When the things of the past were just as good as the reh-eh-est
Well I knew a boy, ah just a one certain boy
Who goes around masting things and all around tasting things (masting???????)
C'mon, let's do the Taster when my love was so grayster
When the things of the past were just as good as the reh-eh-est
Well I knew a nursie, just a one certain nursie
Who goes around putting things in everyone's pursies
C'mon, let's do the Taster when my love was so grayster
When the things of the past were just as good as the reh-eh-est
Well I knew a doctor, just a one certain doctor
Who goes around putting things in everyone's eye
C'mon, let's do the Taster when my love was so grayster
When the things of the past were just as good as the reh-eh-est
Well I knew a cow, ah just a one certain cow
Who'd give his life oh just to be an owl
C'mon, let's do the Taster when my love was so grayster
When the things of the past were just as good as the reh-eh-est
Well I knew a cat, ah just a one certain cat
Who'd climb a mountain, oh just for a rat
C'mon, let's do the Taster when my love was so grayster
When the things of the past were just as good as the reh-eh-est
I'm mad as hellAnd that is how, how how you do the Taster
Oh now come on, darling, oh now let's do the Taster
And I'm mad as hellAnd that is how, how how you do the Taster
Oh now come on, darling, oh now let's do the Taster
And I'm mad as hellAnd that is how, how how you do the Taster!
Oh now come on, darling, oh now let's do the Taster
And I'm mad as hell! And that is how, how how you do the Taster!
Oh now come on, darling! Oh now let's do the TASTER!!
Ba buh ba, ha ha!
Ba buh ba, ha ha!
Ba buh ba, ha ha!
Ba buh ba, ha HA!
Ba buh BA HA HA!
Ba buh BA HA HA!
Ba buh ba ha ha . . .
WMF: Uh, I wrote "The Taster" when I was around fourteen years old, and, uh, I used to listen to Chubby Checker do "The Twist", and I used to think, y'know, he was really in then, I used to really dig "The Twist", so I figured if I wrote a "Taster" some record company would really pick up on the song and think it was good as "The Twist", and I used to go to company to company and they used to tell me no, uh, that's just not it., y'know, I told 'em, that's uh it's a new dance, and they just, you know, thought I was crazy, they just said that was, y'know—but that wasn't what they're lookin' for, so I wrote a song c— I tried to chase it, I changed it around to "C'mon Let's Do the Twister" but, uh they didn't go for that neither so uh, y'know, I went back to my scoom— I think I wrote it when I was sixteen, I thought it was fourteen but I forgot I wrote it when I was sixteen because I finally remembered when I wrote it, uh—my mother never liked me to sing in my bedroom but I always get into my bedroom and sing, I used to sell papers, y'know, I used to sell papers—TCHOOPF!—excuse me, "Sir would you like to buy a paper", Herald-Express, y'know, it used to be Herald-Express and Mirror-News, I'm sure some of you people remember the Mirror-News, and I used to sell papers and I used to come home, I heh had to give my mother like uh, I'd make like two dollars and ten cents, my mother used to make me give her half but I'd give her like seventy-five cents, heh! said I was making, uh nn, a dollar fifty, and, uh, you know, my mother always used to, you know, uh, wonder about me, she always wondered what I was going to do when I get older, I said "Mother, don't worry about me uh, I'll get a job", heh heh! "I'll go straight", heh heh heh . . . !
WMF: Anyways, I'd like to sing this next song, it's called uh—this is the first song I ever wrote, incidentally, I wrote this—uh, this was when I rebelled, I was really happy to be wrenk t—uh I think t— he said y'know well, anyways, I wrote this song, heh heh, it's called "The Rocket Rock" and it's something like, uh er eh uh, eh it was written when I was sixteen and I was digging Chubby Checker and Elvis Presley then, and Ricky Nelson, I used to dig some—Paul Anka was more or less my speed, I used to have all his records—[sings] "I took a little trip to my home town"—I used to, y'know, I used to cry time I heard that record because y'know I always—I dunno, my mother always used to get on me, "CLEAN THE HOUSE!! CLEAN IT!!" y'know, but I always used to listen to that record 'cause I liked Paul Anka, he was groovy! But anyway here's "The Rocket Rock", the first song I ever wrote . . .
[WMF accompanies himself on tongue clucks]
The moon rocks! [cluck cluck]
The sun rocks! [cluck cluck]
The earth rocks! [cluck]
Everybody's doin' the Rocket Rock!
Doo doo doont doont doont, doo-doo doo doont doo
Doont doont doont—
(Y'know it sounds like Junior Walker and the All-Stars, whatever)
Doont doont doo-doo, doont doont de doo
Doont doont doont, doont de doo de doo, agh! [stops singing]
—I forgot some of the words, lemme try to remember the words—gimme some ti— oh ri— remember the words? Okay . . . "The moon rocks [cluck cluck], the sun rocks [cluck cluck], the earth rocks [cluck]"—You can see my mind was a little crazy then, heh, I'm showing you my first song, I was saying "the moon rocks", really the moon doesn't rock, it just stays still, y'know, I mean like—yeh heh heh heh . . . !! I was crazy when I was young too, I never thought I was but I guess I was . . . Anyways, let's see now, uh, heh heh, I forgot the other parts, it was something like um, "The moon rocks [cluck cluck], the earth rocks [cluck cluck], the sun rocks, everybody's doing the Rocket Rock . . . "
[resumes singing]
I took a trip! [cluck cluck]
To the moon! [cluck cluck]
Sang straight! [cluck cluck]
To the sun! Everbody doin' the Rocket Rock! Yeah!
Doont doont doont, doont doont doo-doont— [stops singing again]
I always thought I'd be a rock 'n roll star, then I took, I put that song and I used to, y'know, Billy Sherman Warner Brothers and his recording of, she had an "Angel on My Shoulder" record then uh done by Shelley Flint and I gave him a song called "Dream Girl" which was the second song I wrote, I gave him a demo of it, he gave me back the demo and he told me that it it was terrible, it was uh it was a ballad and I was a—this was probably perhaps my straightest song I ever wrote, it's called "Dream Girl", it's a ballad, I'm gonna sing it to you right now—Ladies and gentlemen I hope you enjoy it because it's a good song, uh, ah I think, eh eh, for, uh, Johnny Tillotson or uh, ah huh, Ricky Nelson or perhaps Johnny Cash could sing it . . . I always y'know I always had the song in mind for uh, [sings
quietly] "Dream girl, dream girl, that's what I w—" I for— oh yeah I always had that in mind for that guy who sung, uh, [sings] "Invisible teeears in my heart, incre . . . " [smacks his lips] Anyways I'm gonna sing it . . .
[sings]
There is a girl I like best
She is my dream girl
Well, a dream girl, a dream girl, that's what I want
A dream girl, a dream girl, that's what I'll get toda-ay
[softly]
A dream girl, a dream girl, that's what I want
A dream girl, a dream girl, that's what I g—
Aw, I forgot that song too, y'see, these songs I written years ago, I forgot that song, [sings quietly] "There is a girl I like best, she is my dream girl . . . " Oh I remembered it now, Frank! Shall I do it over again? . . . Okay, this is the second song I wrote, I wrote it when I was sixteen, it's called "Dream Girl".
[sings]
There is a girl I like best
She is my dream girl
Well, a dream girl, a dream girl, that's what I want
A dream girl, a dream girl, that's what I'll get toda-ay
[reedy falsetto]
Well, a dream girl, a dream girl, that's what he wants
A dream girl, a dream girl, that's what he'll get toda-ay
Well, of all the girls I like the best it's her
She's my one and only girl
She's my one and only love
That's my dream girl I am dreaming of
Well, a dream girl, a dream girl, that's what I want
A dream girl, a dream girl, that's what I'll get toda-ay
Well, a dream girl, a dream girl, that's what he wants
A dream girl, a dream girl, that's what he'll get toda-ay
Of all the girls I know she's the purtiest
Her eyes are brown, her hair is blonde
And everything about her's strong
That's my dream girl I am dreaming of
Well, a dream girl, a dream girl, that's what I want
A dream girl, a dream girl, that's what I'll get toda-ay
Well, a dream girl, a dream girl, that's what he wants
A dream girl, a dream girl, that's what he'll get toda-ay
Well I went ov'er house the other evening
She said she'd be mine and I said I'd be hers
Now I don't have to dream no more
Well, a dream girl, a dream girl, that's what I have
A dream girl, a dream girl, that's what I'll keep toda-ay
Well, a dream girl, a dream girl, that's what he has
A dream girl, a dream girl, that's what he'll keep toda-ay
Well, I used to take that to record companies and there b— they all the record companies agreed the song was a pretty good song, but they said one thing was wrong about it, I says, well, "Of all the girls I know she's the prettiest, her eyes are brown, her hair is blonde, and everything about her's strong", heh they could never understand that, and to this day I could never understand why I put that w— I always told 'em, "strong" rhymed with "blonde", [sings] "Her eyes are brown"—uh rhymed with "brown" and "blonde" and I thought that went good together, but I never succeeded with that song, Billy Sherman just said "Here it is", but uh I never eh it was like a song, I used to sing, I sing it lousy today, eh I had a good voice, I think I had a better voice when I was sixteen 'cause I used to sing that song with more of a country voice y'know but my voice has changed today, simply because of the fact that I've sung, I sing songs for dimes every fucking day of my life and you know my voice is going to get a little hoarse, so I can't sing ballads anymore and I'm very sorry I can't sing ballads anymore for all you lovers out there, y'know, heh . . . ha ha . . .
[WMF accompanied by the Bizarre Percussion Ensemble]
Serrano Beach is such a wild beach
It used to be oh such a quiet beach
Along came a boy, oh such a wild boy
Oh oh he turned my beach into the wildest beach
I say now hit it!
Doont doont, da da da doont da doon
Da da da doont da doont, da da da doont da doon
Da da da doont da doont, da da da doont da doon
Da da da doont da doont, da da da doont da doon
Da doo Serrano Beach is where the surfers meet
Oh oh they ride the surf up on Serrano Beach
Oh oh the wild boy with the long blond hair
Oh oh he turned my beach into the wildest beach
I say now hit it!!
Doont doont, da da da doont da doon
Da da da doont da doont, da da da doont da doon
Da da da doont da doont, da da da doont da doon
Da da da doont da doont, da da da doont da doon
Da doo Serrano Beach is such a wild beach
Oh oh Serrano Beach is such a wild beach
Oh oh Serrano Beach is such a wild beach
Oh oh Serrano Beach is such a wild b . . .
[WMF sings a medley, beats time on some large hollow object and expounds on his attitude to his fellow recording artists all at the same time]
There's lots of singers, and they're comin' from all this world
Doont doont doont doont, doon doont doon
Not a one, not a solitary one holds a candle stick to
Wild Man Fischer, Wild Man Fischer . . .
[blows, makes kissing noise and whispers]
Tiptoe to the ends of the earth . . .
[squeak, squeak]
I wanna hold your ha-aa-aaand, I wanna hold
Jumpin' Jack Flash, it's such a gas
She's Little Egypt, sheeneree (?????????) she's
Merry go, merry go, merry go round, boop boop boop
Merry go, merry go
Working for the merry go bill, ah ree merry go I wanna hold
your merry go Jumpin Jack hey mister
Heeellp me Rhonda, help help me Rhonda
Help me Rhon-da-aa—she she's my little calendar girl
Merry go, yes uh's stuck on you, uh yeah
Uh took a little trip . . .
There's lots of singers, and they're comin' from all this world
Doont doont doont doont, doont doon doon
I say a ONE! not a solitary ONE! holds a candle stick to
Wild Man Fischer [huff huff huff]
Ge' your candle sticks out, and blow! [huffs some more] I said a candle stick, you singers, and start BLOWIN' those candles! 'Cause ya don't even touch me! Ya don't even TOUCH me! Ya couldn't touch me if you're blowin' anyway! [resumes singing] Wild Man Fischer, Wild Man Fischer, Wild Man Fischer, Wild Man Fischer—Jumpin' Jack Flash, ssshhwit!
[We find Wild Man back on Sunset Strip performing for passersby, again ably overdubbed by Arthur Dyer Tripp III in the studio]
Neil: I don't have a dime but I'll give you -
WMF: What's wrong? They're good songs!
Neil: Okay, play it!
WMF: No, you give me a dime, I'll sing it to you.
Neil: I don't have a dime -
WMF: Wh— you're broke?
Neil: —but sing one anyway. Yeah.
Mudslide: We're broke, Fischer. You know us.
WMF: [sings]
Which way did my girl go?
Which way did she go?
Which way did my girl go -
Okay, you like that song?
Neil: That's good.
WMF: What's your opinion? Do you know—what song do you like the best?
Mudslide: That one that's new on your album. That first one.
WMF: What song you like?
Mudslide: [sings] Merry go, merry go, merry go round, ha ha . . . ah hrmm . . . rrrhrrmm . . .
[lots of street noise, with traffic, music, and inaudible conversation, then we hear the following exchange repeated several times thanks to the magic of the tape loop]
Lynette: Hey, Fischer—you're in-SAAAAAANE!!
WMF: No, no I'm not!
Lynette: You're insane!! . . .
Duane: Hey, hey, sing me a song!
WMF: Huh no no no . . .
Duane: Hey, I got some money!
WMF: Y'gotta dime?
Duane: Hey Terry, gimme a nickel or . . . [trails off into background]
Lynette: You're in-SAAAAAANE!!
WMF: No, no I'm not!
Lynette: You're insane!! . . .
Duane: Hey, hey, sing me a song!
WMF: Huh no no no . . .
Duane: Hey, I got some money!
WMF: Y'gotta dime?
Duane: Hey Terry, gimme a nickel -
Lynette: You're in-SAAAAAANE!!
WMF: No, no I'm not!
Lynette: You're insane!! . . .
Duane: Hey, hey, sing me a song!
WMF: Huh no no no . . .
Duane: Hey, I got some money!
WMF: Y'gotta dime?
Duane: Hey Terry, gimme a -
Lynette: You're in-SAAAAAANE!!
WMF: No, no I'm not!
Lynette: You're insane!! . . .
Duane: Hey, hey, sing me a song!
WMF: Huh no no no . . .
Duane: Hey, I got some money!
WMF: Y'gotta dime?
Duane: Hey Terry, gimme a nickel -
Lynette: You're in-SAAAAAANE!!
WMF: No, no I'm not!
Lynette: You're insane!! . . .
Duane: Hey, hey, sing me a song!
WMF: Huh no no no . . .
Duane: Hey, I got some money!
WMF: Y'gotta dime?
Duane: Hey Terry, gimme a nickel or a [trails off into background with confusion of indistinguishable chatter]
WMF: You got the dime? Where is he?
Duane: I'm trying to get some money. Hey, gimme a nickel, Terry . . . Terry: . . . half a can . . . (???????)
Duane: Gimme a nickel or a penny. I want him to sing a song for me.
WMF: [sings] M-I-C-K-E-Y M-O-U-S-E!
Duane: C'mere, fucker! . . . Hey, here's a dime. Here's a dime.
WMF: What song d'you wanna hear?
Duane: I don't know. "Merry-Go-Round".
WMF: Okay. [sings]
C'mon let's merry go, merry go, merry go round! Boop boop boop!
Merry—[but Lynette interrupts him] Ssshhhh!! He's singin' the song!
Duane: Leave him alone! Leave him alone!
WMF: Lemme singin' the song!
Duane: Let him sing his song! I like it.
Lynette: Fischer, you're insane!
Duane: Hey, fuck off!
WMF: Lemme sing the song he paid a dime for . . .
Lynette: Hey you -
Duane: Fake off!
WMF: Yeah, be quiet! He wants to hear the song.
Duane: I wanna hear the song.
WMF: Yeah, let him hear the song . . .
[sings]
C'mon let's merry go, merry go, merry go round! Boop boop boop!
Merry go, merry go, merry go round! Boop boop boop!
Merry go, merry go, merry go round! Boop boop boop!
Me and you can go merry go . . . [tapers off]
Duane: Get it on, brother, get it on!
WMF: Oh well, that's that. [trails off]
Duane: Hey, that wasn't my dime's worth!
WMF: [trails back in] Okay, I'll finish the song!
Duane: Okay, finish the song!
WMF: [sings]
Me and you can go merry go round!
It's very easy, just go up and down!
C'mon let's merry go, merry go, merry go round! Boop boop boop!
Merry go, merry go, merry go round! Boop boop boop . . .
[brief pause]
Everybody's going merry go round!
Let us go oh oh uh-up and down!
C'mon, let's merry go, merry go, merry go round . . .
Duane: All right, brother, all right! Yea! [applauds]
[ensuing dialogue drowned out by Art Tripp et al]
WMF: Okay . . . 'Scuse me, excuse me . . . Excuse me, would you like to hear a new kind of sing for a dime, I swear to G—
Gal: Yeah, walkinadigamine [or something like that]
Guy: Yeah. [to his girlfriend] Okay, you wanna hear it? [to WMF] Okay, here's your dime.
WMF: Okay, what song do you wanna hear? Do you have any favorites? I mean I heh heh . . .
Guy: "Home, Home on the Range"! Hhno, heh! Okay, okay, which one? Uh—"The Leaves Are Falling"!
WMF: All right.
[begins the song that must ever drive even the most painstaking transcriber to despair at the inadequacy of the printed word]
Mmmmmmmm . . .
Nrr nnt nnt nyrr nnt nnt nyrr nnt nnt nyrr nnt ntt
Mmm-mmm mmm, mmm, mmmmm mmm-mmm!
Nnt nnt nyrr nnt nnt nyrr nnt nnt nyrr
Mmm-mmm!
The leaves are falling!
Mmmmmmmm . . .
Mmm-mmm mmm, mmm, mmmmm mmm-mmm!
Nnt nnt nyrr nnt nnt nyrr nnt nnt nyrr
Mmm-mmm!
Nnt nnt nyrr nnt nnt nyrr nnt nnt nyrr nnt nnt
Mmmmm mmm mmm-mmm mmm-mmm—
You owe me a dime, man!
[the guy and gal laugh]
Guy: You're nuts, Wild Man! I know 'cause you'll do it!
WMF: Gimme the dime! I'll take this instead -
Guy: No, wait, heh heh . . .
WMF: . . . Would you like to hear an original song for a dime?
Nobody: You bet.
WMF: . . . Steve, I'm gonna starve. I'm gonna go fuckin' hungry. I gotta sell some of these songs! . . . Sir, would you like to hear an original song for a dime? Truly original! . . . sshhh! Gaw dooey . . . There's my brother! Norm! Heh heh . . . How's Mother?
Norm: Uh dunno, how is she?
WMF: I'm selling my songs to pay for my rento . . .
Norm: Eh, y'know what dat -
WMF: Wanna buy one?
Norm: —what I'da done to that guy that kept tellin' ya t'get . . . oh kept tellin' ya t'get by, man, 'n 's pilin' a smilin', man . . . boom!
WMF: Don't do that, Norman! Peace, love, love, y'know . . . aaaaah shit . . .
Whozit: Hold on a second . . .
[bits of unintelligible chatter which seem to suggest that WMF and his entourage are moving to another street corner]
WMF: Original songs for sale . . . Would you like to hear an original song for a dime? I swear it's original . . .
Ergo: I'll buy one for a match!
WMF: No, you can't buy one for a match. You got a dime? Y'wanna hear an original song?
Una: How can I, how can I help myself, Wild Man?
Ergo: Yeah, I wanna hear one.
WMF: You wanna hear one?
Una: Okay, you've gotta sing two now, wait a minute . . .
Dosa: Wait, I gotta sit down.
WMF: Two?
Una: Yeah, well I'm giving you a dime and he's giving you a dime -
WMF: Okay.
Ergo: . . . Give you an encore if they're good.
WMF: Okay.
[sings]
Which way did my girl go?
Which way did she go?
Which way did my girl go?
Which way did she go-bo-bo-bo-bo
Bo-bo-bo-bo-bo Bow, bow, bow!
Correction!
Which way did the freaks go?
Which way did they go?
Which way did [somebody interrupts] -
Shhh, quiet! I'm singin' a song!
Una: I want my dime back, Wild Man!
Cogito: Hold, baby . . .
WMF: All right, I'll sing you another song
Ergo: Right on!
WMF: "Serrano Beach"
Una: . . . 'Sa gyp, man . . .
WMF: I'm a, I'm not gyppin' ya, I'll sing you the song.
Una: Okay, let's go . . .
WMF: [begins reprise of "The Leaves Are Falling"]
Mmmmmmmm . . .
Nyr nnt nnt nyrr nnt nnt nyrr nnt nnt nyrr nnt nnt
Mmm-mmm—
Una: Heh heh! You did that last one . . .
WMF: Will you be quiet! Y'want me to sing "Serrano Beach"?
Dosa: Yeah, c'mon, shut up . . .
WMF: All right, I'll sing "Serrano Beach" -
[sings]
Serrano Beach is such a wild beach
It used to be ah such a quiet beach
Along came a boy, oh such a wild boy
Oh oh he turned the beach into the wildest beach
I say now hit it!
Doo doo, da da -
[the girls laugh]
WMF: . . . Getcher original songs here! Get 'em before the world gets 'em! Getch— . . . shit.
[fade]
WMF: I would say I'm a normal everyday person, you know, I like, y'know, I like girls, I like to eat in restaurants, I like sports cars, I like motorcycles . . . I like to go to ball games, see the Dodgers, I used to be a Dodger fan . . . Dodgers are losing this year, but y'can't all win every year, y'know . . . I'd like to get married one day, have kids, raise a normal family, normal neighborhood, y'know, I guess—and work, y'know, like, I'm a singer, like, y'know, do my thing as a singer, y'know . . . I like to go to the Pink Pussycat once in a while, and watch some of the strippers strip, y'know, like every nasty man that leaves their wife at home does once in a while, y'know . . . prob'ly pays fifty to a hundred bucks to ball 'em . . . but I don't, y'know, I like, y'know, I like little kids, I like to sing to little kids, like when I go down to the beach and I sing, like I'm always singing songs for dimes, it's a way to make a living, y'know . . . I have people say, y'know, "Why don't you do something else, why don't you get yourself a job?" But, y'know, I enjoy it so I do it, y'know . . . I have to admit it scares a lot of girls when I ask them out for dates, y'know, I can, I can imagine if I ever had a wife I wonder what she'd think of something like that, I can understand her, y'know, I once had a girl—like most girls have left me because I do that, ehhm, it was hurting me in my life, but not all girls have, and it's kinda hard on a girl for a guy to go out and make a fool out of himself every day, like, I guess that's what I've been doing, anyw— I wouldn't call it making a fool because a lot of kids are happy—I sing them "Merry-Go-Round" and they go home and sing it and everybody's happy in the neighborhood—I sing, you know, whatever song comes to my head . . . but I don't wanna do—I m- I figu— I'm through doing that, I don't wanna do—I mean, like, I just don't wanna do that anymore, y'know, well I wanna do other things like make records 'n TV shows 'n get married and stuff like that, y'know . . . but, y'know, I just like normal things in life . . . If the people don't like me then I'll drop out of the music scene b— I think I'll go out eventually, get married and get a job, but if the people like me, I plan to be around this business for a long time and uh I want the people to decide—I don't want anybody to force it on 'em, I don't want, y'know, anybody to say, well, "He's gonna be the greatest, greater than the Beatles and Elvis Presley" or anything like that—I think that the people should decide where I'm at, if they like me, they should go out and buy my records, if they don't like me, they shouldn't buy my records. 'Scuse me, I gotta tie my shoe now—Are you rollin'? . . . Don't roll, don't roll, I gotta tie my shoe . . .
[Almost entirely spoken, except for the refrain]
This song here is called "The Wild Man Fischer Story"—you rollin'? . . . You ROLLIN'? [sighs, chuckles, pauses, then . . . ]
In the year of 1961, I did it all in fun!
[upset] "DAVID!"
[blase] "What, Mother?"
"Larry's in the bedroom, David—he's SINGING!!"
"Larry, are you singing?"
[Larry emits an excerpt from "The Leaves Are Falling"]
"Mother, I don't know what he's doing, but I don't think he's singing."
In the year of 1962, I got thrown out of school!
"Now listen Larry, I'm the principal at this high school, you're not s'posed to sing in class!"
"WHAT'S WRONG WITH SINGIN' IN CLASS?!!"
"Lookit, Larry, look at all these other students around here, they don't sing in class . . . You know I like you, you know I like you to have you stay here, but when you go all day, go 'Serrano Beach', 'c'mon let's do the Taster', ng glk, you know, it's gonna drive, it's gonna drive somebody nuts!"
[Somebody—Larry or the principal?—whimpers and growls]
In the year of 1963, I was committed to a mental institution!
[hysterical] "David! Norman! Oh, David! We're gonna have to do something about Larry, David. He's driving me nuts, David, I can't stand him another day, David. We're gonna have to do something."
"Well why don't you commit him?"
"Great idea! Larry, you know Mother loves you . . . you know I'd do anything for you—you gotta understand, it's my arthritis, Larry . . . the doctors say I haven't got long to live . . . If you live here another month I think my arthritis will get worse, Larry . . . Why couldn't you be like all the other Jewish boys in the neighborhood?!! A nice decent boy . . . all these other, these other parents, their boys go out and work—what do my boys do? 'Merry go'—'Serrano Beach'—oh Larry, [sobbing hysterically] it's terrible!"
"Mother, I love you!"
"You love me, David!!" [more sobbing]
Aaaaaah—in the year of 1964, I was released from the mental institution!
"Mother, I'm back."
[riotously happy] "Oh David, he's HOME!! Oh Larry, the doctors pronounced you NORMAL! You're NORMAL, Larry!! Oh David, he's normal! Ha ha, oh David . . . "
"Larry, I heard that you're, y'know, the doctors say you're gonna be all right, you're not gonna sing anymore—"
"No, David, I'm gonna go out and get a job, I'm gonna be normal in society! Mother, just sign over the licence . . . I'll stay home, I'll be home early, Mother, everything's gonna be all right . . . Sir, can I have this job?"
"Well, it only pays a dollar and a quarter an hour."
"Okay."
"FISCHER! Sing us a song, Fischer!"
"Yeah, Fischer, why don't ya sing us a song!"
"I can't sing you a song, I'll get fired!"
[sweet girlish voice] "Fischer, [giggle] why don't you sing me a song [giggle]?"
"Oh okay, just one song, okay? [sings] C'mon, let's merry go, merry go, merry go round! Boop boop boop! Merry go, merry go, merry go round, boop boop -"
"You're fired!"
In the year of 1965, I was committed to the mental institution again!
"David . . . [sobbing] oh, David . . . "
"Mother, calm down!"
"David, how can you tell me to calm down! Larry's in the bedroom, David—he's saying 'balls', David! . . . Oh David, he's got those girls up there, David! 'Balls'—I don't know what he means by that, David! Oh, this is terrible, David! David, we're gonna have to commit him, David, he got fired, this is terrible—NORMAN! DAVID!!"
"Mother, I'm going out with a girl tonight, will you leave me alone?!"
Ah—in the year of 1966, I was released from the mental institution again!
"Mother, as you know, they released me."
[sobbing] "Oh . . . Don't tell me about it—tell me about it . . . Larry, you'll never be normal . . . they say you're a paranoia schizophrenic . . . [sighs, composes herself] Larry, you know Mother loves you and everything, but you must, you know, make it out on the own in the world and be a good boy and make mother proud of you—"
"I will, Mother!"
[kisses Larry] "You know Mother loves you—I'll always be thinking of you, Larry!"
"Mother, I'm gonna go out there, I'm gonna be a big singing star -"
[alarmed] "DON'T TALK ABOUT THAT!!! The doctors told you to get off that subject!"
"Mother . . . really! I mean, lookit, there's, uh, look at all the other singers that are out—Sonny & Cher, the Beatles—I could be big too, y'know, if I try hard!"
In the year of 1967, do you wanna hear a new kind of song for a dime!
"Pardon me, sir, uh, would you like to hear a new kinda song for a dime?"
"Yeah, but I'm late for my next class, man, I mean, you know, I gotta, you know . . . "
"Okay . . . [gives off that indescribable sound known only to a very few as "The Leaves Are Falling"] [growls:] The leaves are falling!"
"The leaves are what?"
In the year of 1968, have I made a mistake?
Will I end up a bum? Will I end up a crumb?
Will I end up in hell? Will I end up in jail?
Will I end up in Jesus? Will I end up in trees?
Will I end up rich, rich, rich, RICH!!
Wild Man Fischer, Wild Man Fischer
Merry go, merry go, merry go round, boop boop boop, merry go . . .
WMF: People ask me, uh y'know, "What kind of person can this Wild Man Fischer be?" y'know . . . but I'm just y'know, a regular everyday man, I do everything everybody else does, I brush my teeth in the morning, I eat, I go out with girls once in a while—I have to say I'm no Romeo, but, uh, we're not all Romeos because like some people, uh y'know, when you're young you go home, you tell your mother "I b—" I d— you tell your boyfriend, y'know, "I balled this chick" and you really didn't, y'know . . . but, like, balling isn't everything because. like, there's always mental things you can have with chicks and stuff like that, now people ask me what kind of mental things do I have with, you know, chicks, and the only thing I could say to that is, y'know, like I had a mental thing with this girl Sue, kind of, and this one girl I remember I lived with, she was kind of fat, but I don't (???????????)forget her name, seems fat girls always liked me, y'know . . . heh . . . I like fat girls because y'know they're nice girls, y'know, she was, like, she was from Texas, y'know, she was really a sweet girl, y'know, and people watch me down the street with her, I didn't care what they thought—she was fat but she was really a wholesome person inside—she cooked me good meals, she treated me like a man, she made me feel good, where I was going out with this girl named, uh, y'know, Mrs. America, so you wanna call her, like maybe Sue or Ma— I forget her name, I think her name was—ah her name was Carole, y'know, I balled her once 'n, y'know, she uh, y'know, where's she gonna, she uh, she was really uptight, y'know, she was like, "Ah, I'm so beautiful!" y'know, like, heh heh, like, but she wasn't that beautiful. [plinks guitar a bit]
[Sung]
She's my ugly beautiful girl! Hoo hoo!
My ugly beautiful girl! Hoo hoo!
She's so oh beautiful
She's so oh beautiful
My ugly beautiful girl!
[Spoken]
My girl, she's so beautiful—she's got one eye, no teeth, no hair, no stomach . . . but she's beautiful!!
[Sung]
She's my ugly beautiful girl! Hoo hoo!
My ugly beautiful girl! Hoo hoo!
She's so oh beautiful
She's so oh beautiful
My ugly beautiful girl!
[Spoken]
When I kiss my girl at night I don't kiss her—I don't kiss h— I kiss her blood cells, I kiss her heart—It's not what's outside that counts, it's what's inside a person!! DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND?!?!!
[Sung]
She's my ugly beautiful girl! Hoo hoo!
My ugly beautiful girl! Hoo hoo!
She's so oh beautiful
She's so oh beautiful
My ugly beautiful
My ugly beautiful girl!
WMF: [sings] SO YA WANNA BE A ROCK 'N ROLL STAR, SO GRAB YOURSELF AN ELECTRIC GUITAR [bangs tunelessly on acoustic guitar], and learn how to play [suddenly stops banging]—you can see I don't know how to play this guitar, I'm just, y'know [plink plink] I'm just playin' it y'know . . . I don't think I'll ever be able to learn how unless maybe Frank Zappa teaches me or Bob Dylan, but they're always busy, y'know, people like Bob Dylan and Frank Zappa, I mean I mean they got too many things to do—I'll, I'll learn how eventually, if I can find a teacher who's, heh, uh, y'know, uh . . . um, who is more—uh, who can under— y'know, who can take on a nervous person, y'know, who c— I mean I think, I think I can learn how to play—I don't know if he'd be willing to teach me, simply because I, y'know, I keep—I'm very jumpy sometimes, I I I break guitars sometimes, I broke my cousin's, I m— I think I broke my cousin's guitar but I'm not sure . . . uh, I didn't mean to, I just, heh heh, heh heh . . . y'see the engineer's gettin' nervous, the recorder, he's gettin' nervous back there, 's afraid I'm gonna break this guitar, heh heh [starts plunking on it], huh huh, but uh y'know Frank Zappa, he ain't worried about it because if I do break the guitar it just comes out of my paycheque and I pay for the guitar . . . yeah . . . Excuse me, I just, I left my shoes out there and I'm barefooted in here, and like, I, y'know, I don't wanna catch any kind of sickness, y'know, like, I uh don't wanna die young, I'm a very young man, I'm only twenty-three years old, I'm six-one, I got curly hair, I got brown eyes—I have to admit I'm no J— I don't look like Jim Morrison, y'know—I mean every time he gets up on there, y'know he, the girls are crazy, but I don't think they're gonna go crazy over me, um, unless they're, y'know, I mean, I I like girls, believe me I like girls, but I'm not gonna say I'm no Jim Morrison, I'm not gonna say I'm no John Lennon, I'm not gonna say I'm like the Monkees neither. [sings] I'm a believer! [bangs guitar] Some people say I'd make a pretty musician, but I've always argued, I, uh, it's gonna take me a long time to learn how to play this . . . [starts banging noisily on guitar] How's it sound? [more banging] You like it? [bang bang bang] I might be a good musician yet! Wouldn't it really surprise you if I played as good as Mike Bloomfield or Eric Clapton or, y'know . . . [bang bang] Wouldn't it really surprise you? Y'know, I m— anything's possible, y'know . . . y'know how, y'know what I'm gonna do once I start learning how to play guitar, y'know, I might be able to uh make 'em go up and down and turn it around, y'know, heh heh [plunk plunk] go up, around, ha ha! Now I'll experiment now!
Here, here's a song called "Sunshine of Your Love"—[plunk plunk] "Jumpin' Jack Flash"—[sings] Jumpin' Jack Flash! It's such a gas! [more guitar noises] Y'kn— I'm at the beginning stages now, msshh heh heh! [still more guitar wanking; resumes singing] JUMPIN' JACK FLASH, IT'S SUCH A GAS!! WOOO!!! [wanka wanka wanka] This guitar, I hope I don't break it, it's only—don't forget I'm just starting out on a regular everyday guitar, but—one of these days I'll get one of those big amplifiers, y'know—heh, could you picture me with a big amplifier goin' [strike up the next number]—
I'm going around your house, baby
Just like a circle
A triangle
A biangle
A triangle
A diangle, baby
I'm moving so fast that you—not even your cat can follow me, baby
I'm going around
I'm going upside down, inside up and down and back and round and up
And up and down and up and around and up that down
And double into that down LIKE A CIRCLE, BABY!
I SAY LIKE A CIRCLE, BABY!
JUST LIKE A CIRCLE! WOO! HA! HOO!
Now, it's really strange goin' around your apartment house in one big circle
You ask me how I do it (heh heh)
I'M INVISIBLE, BABY!
I'M INVISIBLE! YOU CAN'T SEE ME, BABY! HAHA!!
Triangle
Diangle
Biangle
Circle angle
I'm going around your house
JUST LIKE A CIRCLE, BABY, YOW!
Now baby, you ask me
How can I go around your house like a circle if I'm invisible
CIRCLES ARE NOT INVISIBLE! BUT THEY ARE I'M A VISIBLE CIRCLE!!! (????????)
AH HAHAHA!! AH HAHAHA!! WAAA HAHAHA!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAH BABY!
BAY-BAY!!
BAY-BAY!!
Woo! Man! Woo!
I'm goin' up and down back and forth
Crossword puzzles 'round in the back
Like an upside down angle to a triangle to a biangle circle
Right around your house, and you can't see me, haha!
Oh yeah, baby
Like a circle, baby!
Just like a circle, baby!
Just like a circle, baby!
JUST LIKE A CIRCLE!!
Just like a circle
WMF: We almost through?
FZ: Why, don't you like to make records?
WMF: [long pause] Uh . . . yes . . . but I been under strain lately . . . uh, unexplainable strain, y'know, I'm nervous lately . . .
FZ: Larry, you were telling me about some songs that you did where your voice changes a lot?
WMF: My voice does some weird changes when I was younger but I mean like I told you Frank I told you this the year (?????????) I'm only in it for the money. But don't forget, Frank, despite how happy I was in '61 and '62 I was committed to back-to-back mental institutions—I was raised with the fact that I was crazy, I was raised with the fact that I had to sleep with old men who pissed and shit in the floor, I was raised that you're crazy, you'll always be crazy and I never dug that—I can't be happy anymore when I sing, that's the main reason, the fucking bastards, they're all fucking bastards, Frank! Are you ready for that? I'm trying to get myself back to where I was in '61 and '62 if I can -
FZ: Start by smiling.
WMF: This isn't '61 or '62, Frank, it's '68. [sings] In the year of 1968, have I made a mistake? Yes, yes. No, no. Yes, yes. No, no. Yes, yes! No, no! Yes! yes! NO! NO! YES! NO! Yes yes yes, no no no, yes yes? Please, yes! No. Yes yes. No no no no no no no. They're fighting each other, it's like a disease, Frank! [sighs]
[long pause]
FZ: Wanna take a break?
[long pause]
WMF: [trailing off into the background] . . . You've got me thinkin' about the past, Frank . . .
All songs written by Larry Fischer