| Ladies and gentlemen
|
| Elvis has just left the building
|
|
|
| Elvis has just left the building
|
| Those are his footprints, right there
|
| Elvis has just left the building
|
| To climb up that heavenly stair
|
|
|
| He gave away Cadillacs once in a while
|
| Had sex in his underpants, yes, he had style!
|
| Bell-bottom jump-suits? That’s them in a pile
|
| But he don’t need ‘em now ‘cause he’s makin’ Jesus smile!
|
|
|
| Elvis has just left the building
|
| There he goes!
|
| Those are his footprints, right there
|
| Elvis has just left the building
|
| To climb up that heavenly stair
|
|
|
| The Angels all love him, he brings them relief
|
| With droplets of moisture from his handkerchief!
|
| Cher’bim an’ ser’phim whizz over his head
|
| Jesus, let him come back! We don’t want Elvis dead!
|
|
|
| So what if he looks like a wart-hog in heat?
|
| He knows we all love him, we’ll just watch him eat! ▶
|
| So take down the foil from his hotel retreat
|
| And bring back The King for the man in the street!
|
|
|
| Elvis has just left the building
|
| Those are his footprints, right there
|
| Elvis has just left the building
|
| He’s up there with Jesus, in a big purple chair
|
| [FZ] Meanwhile, on Wall Street…
|
|
|
| [Ike Willis] On the Planet of the Baritone Women
|
| They talk low
|
| ‘Bout stuff they know
|
|
|
| They sing “Oooh!”
|
| And laugh at you
|
| Ah-ha-ha-ha-hah! Hey!
|
|
|
| If you can’t
|
| IF YOU CAN’T
|
| Do it too
|
| DO IT TOO
|
| Ah-ha-ha-ha-hah! Hey!
|
|
|
| They sing “Li-li-li-li!”
|
| They sing “Lo-lo-lo-lo!”
|
| The men carry purses
|
| Wherever they go
|
|
|
| Junior executives
|
| All in a row
|
| Watch the Baritone Women
|
| Do the Baritone show
|
| Ah-ha-ha-ha-hah! Hey!
|
|
|
| They sing about wheat
|
| They sing about corn
|
| They sing about places
|
| Where women was born
|
|
|
| They sing about hate
|
| They sing about fear
|
| It seems like they all got
|
| A pretty good ear
|
| Ah-ha-ha-ha-hah! Hey!
|
|
|
| [Bobby Martin] They sing it in harmony not often heard
|
| With a big ol’ cadenza
|
| [FZ] Robert Martin, from Philadelphia, Curtis Institute graduate, 1971. Let’s hear it for him!
|
| [Bobby Martin] On every long word
|
|
|
| [Ike Willis] They keep it as low as they possibly can
|
| And sometimes they ✄ walk like an E-gyp-tian
|
| Ah-ha-ha-ha-hah! Hey!
|
|
|
| They do choreography still more unique
|
| They leave their legs open whenever they speak
|
| They roll their eyes upward and over again
|
| And slam their legs closed when they sing about MEN!
|
|
|
| THOSE BARITONE WOMEN!
|
| THEY ARE NOT YOUR FRIEND!
|
| Ah-ha-ha-ha-hah!
|
|
|
| You will make a mistake if you go there again!
|
| [FZ] “Broadway the hard way” ladies and gentlemen!
|
| “Broadway the hard way”!
|
|
|
| [Ike Willis] You are the girl
|
| Somebody invented
|
| In a grim little office
|
| On Madison Avenue
|
|
|
| They were specific
|
| They made you terrific:
|
| Red lips
|
| Blue eyes
|
| Blonde hair
|
| Un-wise
|
|
|
| You’re All-American
|
| And, darling, they said so
|
|
|
| You’d take any kind of pain from me
|
| Wouldn’t you, baby?
|
| You’d take any kind of pain from me
|
| Wouldn’t you, baby?
|
|
|
| Since you haven’t got a brain
|
| Let me just explain:
|
| Any kind of pain
|
| Is never a maybe
|
|
|
| What?
|
|
|
| [Ike Willis] Her head’s full of bubbles
|
| Her nose is petite!
|
| She looks like she never
|
| Gets nothin’ to eat!
|
|
|
| An’ she dines with actors
|
| An’ Wall Street characters:
|
| Dull talk
|
| Nice clothes
|
| See her?
|
| She blows
|
| (She’s so important ‘cause he gets to do talk shows)
|
|
|
| She’d take any kind of pain from me
|
| Wouldn’t she, Bobby?
|
| Yeah, she would!
|
| She’d take any kind of pain from me
|
| Wouldn’t she, Bobby?
|
|
|
| Since she haven’t got a name
|
| Let me just explain:
|
| Any kind of pain
|
| Is prob’ly her hobby
|
|
|
| NO… ow-ow-ow-oh… no
|
|
|
| [Instrumental]
|
|
|
| [Ike Willis] She has moved up now
|
| She’s come a long way
|
| They give her bunches
|
| Of words she can say
|
| When she’s in a bold mood
|
| “Confinement Loaf” ▶ sounds good
|
|
|
| That’s right, she’s wrong
|
| Let’s end her song
|
|
|
| It seems she’s everywhere, we just can’t escape her
|
| Is this a miracle of pure evolution?
|
| And all the yuppie boys, they dream they will rape her
|
| She brings the bus ride to a thrilling conclusion!
|
|
|
| Yes, she’s every bit as tame as me
|
| Isn’t she tender?
|
| Yes, she’s every bit as lame as me
|
| Let us remember
|
| She gets only half the blame
|
| Only half the blame
|
| Only half the blame
|
| Unless we extend her
|
| [Spoken intro by FZ on vinyl release]
|
| Alright. CNN ran a story last week about this new product that has been developed for our prison system. It is called “Confinement Loaf”. Now, what it is? It’s uh… bean by-products compressed into a loaf, which is administered to problem prisoners. Their diet will be a slice of “Confinement Loaf” and a cup of water, and it seems to mellow them out right away. So my question is: how long before “Confinement Loaf” appears in United States high-schools?
|
|
|
| [FZ & Ike Willis] One an’ one is eleven
|
| Two an’ two is twenty-two
|
| Won’t somebody kindly tell me ▶
|
| What the government’s tryin’ t’do?
|
|
|
| [Ike Willis] Dickie’s just too tricky
|
| For a chump like me to use, oh use
|
| [FZ] You take that sub-committee serious, boy
|
| I’m serious
|
| You just might get a seizure from the evenin’ news
|
|
|
| Millions an’ millions of dollars
|
| Much as he might need
|
| (Good work!)
|
| He could open up a chain of motels, people
|
| On the highway, yes indeed
|
|
|
| [Ike Willis] Quadrophonic desperation
|
| [FZ] Oh, pinch that loaf now!
|
| [Ike Willis] There might be Confinement Loaf up under your bed
|
| (Well)
|
| [FZ] You know if you just might pinch a little loaf in your slumber
|
| [Ike Willis] Pfft… NURSE!
|
| [FZ] The FBI is gonna get your number
|
|
|
| [FZ & Ike Willis] GONNA GET YA…
|
| GONNA GET YA…
|
| GONNA JUMP UP THE SUB-COMMITTEE AND GET YA!
|
|
|
| [Ike Willis] The FBI
|
| [FZ] Gonna get your number
|
| [Ike Willis] The FBI
|
| [FZ] Gonna get your number
|
| [Ike Willis] The FBI
|
| [FZ] Gonna get your number
|
| [Ike Willis] The FBI
|
| [FZ] Gonna get your number
|
| [Ike Willis] The FBI
|
| [FZ] They already got your picture
|
| [Ike Willis] The FBI
|
| [FZ] And your fingerprints too
|
| [Ike Willis] The FBI
|
| [FZ] Then they got a guy in Virginia
|
| [Ike Willis] The FBI
|
| [FZ] Whiffing up a little soup just for you ▶
|
|
|
| Gonna get your number
|
| Gonna get your number
|
|
|
| Tryin’ not to worry
|
| Tryin’ not to care
|
| But you know, I get so excited
|
| When that soup goes over there
|
|
|
| Can’t have no private conversation
|
| Nowhere
|
| [FZ & Ike Willis] In the USA
|
| [FZ] Can’t wait ‘til the rest of the people all over the world
|
| Find out that their Confinement Loaf
|
| [FZ & Ike Willis] Is just the same ol’ way
|
| [Ike Willis] Every day…
|
| Pinch that loaf now!
|
|
|
| [Instrumental]
|
|
|
| [Ike Willis] Let me tell you about this right now
|
| Let me tell you about this right here
|
| Let me make this formerly clear
|
| Let me tell you about this right here
|
| You know you put me in office
|
| So you must have wanted me in office
|
| I’ve did you no harm
|
| I used to have twenty-five tapes
|
| Now I only got ten
|
| Can’t remember what happened to the rest
|
| Musta gave ‘em to a friend
|
| Gave a couple to Bebe Rebozo
|
| Gave a couple to Pat Boone
|
| Gave a couple to Ronald Reagan
|
| Gave a couple to the new vice-president
|
| He said he’d stick with me through thick and thin
|
| Even if I invaded Nicaragua
|
| You know I’m not a crook
|
| You know I’m not a crook
|
| I just wanna lie about one more thing right now
|
| Say yeah yeah
|
|
|
| [FZ] The gangster stepped right up
|
| An’ kissed him on the lips, goodbye
|
| Made him a cock-sucker by proxy, YES HE DID
|
| An’ he didn’t even bat an eye!
|
|
|
| The man in the White House, oooh!
|
| He’s got a conscience black as sin!
|
| Yeah, maybe I… I don’t know but… it’s just a training exercise
|
| There’s just one thing I wanna know:
|
| How’d that asshole ever manage to get in?
|
|
|
| You’re all the same, so sing right along now
|
|
|
| DICKIE’S SUCH AN ASSHOLE
|
| Sincerely, Dick, we mean it
|
| Sincerely, Ron, we mean it
|
| Sincerely, Dick and Ron, we continue to mean it
|
| Wee-ooo
|
|
|
| Now let’s bring the Republican Party up to date
|
| [Ike Willis] Pinch it good!
|
| You know, that Confinement Loaf ▶ is real good stuff
|
| Hey, you oughta try some!
|
|
|
| They got lies so big
|
| They don’t make a noise
|
| They tell ‘em so well
|
| Like a secret disease
|
| That makes you go numb
|
|
|
| With a big ol’ lie
|
| And a flag and a pie
|
| And a mom and a bible
|
| Most folks are just liable
|
| To buy any line
|
| Any place, any time
|
|
|
| When the lie’s so big
|
| As in Robertson’s case
|
| (That sinister face
|
| Behind all the Jesus hurrah)
|
|
|
| Could result in the end
|
| To a worrisome trend
|
| In which every American
|
| Not “born again”
|
| Could be punished in cruel and unusual ways
|
| By this treacherous cretin ▶
|
| Who tells everyone
|
| That he’s Jesus’ best friend
|
|
|
| When the lies get so big
|
| And the fog gets so thick
|
| And the facts disappear
|
| The Republican Trick
|
| Can be played out again
|
| People, please tell me when
|
| We’ll be rid of these men!
|
|
|
| Just who do they really suppose that they are?
|
| And how do they manage to travel as far
|
| As they seem to have come?
|
| Were we really that dumb?
|
|
|
| People, wake up
|
| Figure it out
|
| Religious fanatics
|
| Around and about
|
| The Court House, the State House
|
| The Congress, the White House
|
|
|
| Criminal saints
|
| With a “Heavenly Mission”
|
| A nation enraptured
|
| By pure superstition
|
|
|
| [FZ] Do you believe in the Invisible Army?
|
| [Ike Willis] Yes indeed!
|
|
|
| When the lie’s so big
|
| And the fog so thick
|
| And the facts kept forgotten
|
| Then the Republican Trick
|
| [FZ] Ketchup is a vegetable!
|
| [Ike Willis] Can be played out again
|
| People, please tell me when
|
| We’ll be rid of these men!
|
| Rhymin’ Man
|
| Tall and tan
|
| Rhyme or reason
|
| Play your hand
|
| Rhyme on this, rhyme on that
|
| Oh, you naughty Democrat!
|
|
|
| They say when Doctor King got shot
|
| Jesse hatched an awful plot
|
| Dipped his hands in the Doctor’s blood
|
| An’ rubbed his shirt like playin’ with mud
|
| Looked around for all the press
|
| Said: “Check me out, my name is Jesse!
|
| I’ll be known from towns an’ farms
|
| Doctor King died in my arms!”
|
|
|
| Rhymin’ Man
|
| Tall and tan
|
| Rhyme or reason
|
| Play your hand
|
| Rhyme on this, rhyme on that
|
| Oh, you naughty Democrat!
|
|
|
| A few years later, legend says
|
| Rhymin’ man made a run for Prez
|
| Farrakhan made him a clown
|
| Over there near Hymie-Town
|
| Said he was a diplomat
|
| Hobbin’ an-a-knobbin’ with Arafat
|
| Castro was simpatico
|
| Though the U.S. voters, they said: “No!”
|
|
|
| Rhymin’ Man
|
| Tall and tan
|
| Rhyme or reason
|
| Play your hand
|
| Rhyme on this, rhyme on that
|
| Oh, you naughty Democrat!
|
|
|
| OK, here we go again!
|
| Rhymin’ Man says he’s your friend
|
| Any fool can make a rhyme
|
| Cowboys do it all the time
|
| They sure do, they sure do
|
| People say: “Now he’s mature!”
|
| Cowboys rhyme that with horse manure
|
|
|
| Horse manure!
|
| Horse manure
|
| That’s for sure!
|
| You been cheatin’
|
| We kept score!
|
| Are you “this”?
|
| Or are you “that”?
|
| Oh, you naughty
|
| Demo… crat!
|
| Democrat!
|
| [Ike Willis] Here we go!
|
|
|
| The Surgeon General, DOCTOR KOOP
|
| S’posed to give you ALL THE POOP
|
| But when he’s with PMRC
|
| The poop he’s scoopin’ AMAZES ME
|
|
|
| C-SPAN showed him, all dressed up
|
| In his phoney Doctor GOD GETUP
|
| He looked in the camera and fixed his specs
|
| An’ gave a fascinating lecture ‘bout ANAL SEX
|
| ANAL SEX
|
| ANAL SEX
|
| ANAL SEX
|
| ANAL SEX
|
|
|
| He says it is not good for us
|
| We just can’t be PROMISCUOUS
|
| He’s just a doctor, he should know
|
| It’s the work of the Devil, so girls, don’t blow!
|
| Don’t blow
|
| Don’t blow
|
|
|
| Don’t blow Jimmy, don’t blow Bobby
|
| Get yourself ANOTHER HOBBY
|
| (If Jesus practiced medicine
|
| I’m sure he’d do it just like him)
|
|
|
| Is Doctor Koop a man to trust?
|
| It seems at least that Reagan must
|
| (And Ron’s a trusting sort of guy
|
| He trusts Ed Meese, I wonder why)
|
| I wonder why
|
| Wonder why
|
|
|
| The A.M.A. has just got caught
|
| For doin’ stuff they shouldn’t ought
|
| All they do is lie and lie
|
| Where’s Doctor Koop?
|
| HE’S STANDIN’ BY
|
|
|
| Surgeon General? What’s the deal?
|
| Is your epidemic real?
|
| Are we leaving something out?
|
| Something we can’t talk about?
|
|
|
| A little green monkey over there
|
| Kills a million people? ▶
|
| THAT’S NOT FAIR!
|
| Did it really go that way?
|
| Did you ask the CIA?
|
|
|
| Would they take you serious
|
| Or have they been PROMISCUOUS
|
| Have they been PROMISCUOUS
|
| Have they been PROMISCUOUS
|
| Have they been PROMISCUOUS
|
| [Instrumental]
|
|
|
| [Ike Willis] Rico! Youngblood! Wake up!
|
| Prohibition is over, but the country’s still a mess!
|
| They need us out there!
|
| We’ve got some cleaning up to do, especially when it comes to this guy…
|
| Get those sport coats on with the big lapels…
|
| They’re back, they’re fashionable again!
|
| OK, let’s look at some mug-sheets of the suspects from the 80’s:
|
|
|
| Admiral Poindexter! Get back on Felix The Cat where you belong!
|
| Get the damn pipe out of your mouth!
|
| You’re history, you’re gone!
|
|
|
| Oliver North! No “Secret Government” for you, buddy!
|
| You’re over! You’re through!
|
|
|
| Bill Casey! You’re dead!
|
| I mean that…
|
|
|
| Bush! You’re still a wimp, I’m sorry, you’re history!
|
|
|
| Deaver! Nofziger! You’re crooks! Book ‘em Danno! Danno? How’d he get in the show? Get outta here!
|
|
|
| Reagan! You’re asleep! Wake up! The country’s in a mess!
|
| You’re anyway out in the way, buddy
|
| You’re history, you’re meat, you’re through!
|
| You’re vapor, you’re baloney without the mayo, buddy!
|
| You’re outta here, in fact, it’s Robin Leach instead!
|
| “I don’t know why…”
|
|
|
| Hey, fellas, take me to the bridge! I want it now!
|
|
|
| Rico! Youngblood! Let’s get outta here! It’s all over!
|
|
|
| THE UNTOUCHABLES!
|
| “He’s white, Jim…”
|
|
|
| Why don’t you like me?
|
| Why don’t you like me?
|
| Why don’t you like me?
|
| Am I really that bad?
|
| ✄ HE’S BAD, HE’S BAD, HE’S BAD
|
|
|
| “I think you’re a jerk! I’m moving from you!”
|
| “Make me a sandwich”
|
| “Moving to Venice”
|
| “I’ll be black”
|
| Jack! What?
|
|
|
| “Still white, Jim…”
|
|
|
| I hate my mother
|
| I hate my father
|
| I AM my sister…
|
| And Jermaine is A NEGRO!
|
| A NEGRO! A NEGRO! A NEGRO!
|
|
|
| “I thought he looked good - what happened to you?”
|
| “Please read this pamphlet”
|
| “I’m so bad!”
|
|
|
| You take the monkey, I’ll take the llama
|
| We’ll have a party:
|
| GET ME A PEPSI
|
| Michael is Janet, Janet is Michael
|
| I’m so confused now
|
| WHO IS DIANA?
|
| He’s oxygenated
|
| His nose is deflated
|
| And he thinks he looks good to you
|
| He thinks he looks good to you
|
|
|
| [Ike Willis] Oh, I’m sorry
|
|
|
| [FZ] This is supposed to be the part where I… name people who are not… related in any particular way to… Michael Jackson… so… oh, let’s see now, who could it be uh… What’s your name? His name is Bob? Bob is not the illegitimate son of Michael Jackson, take it from me.
|
|
|
✄ Billie Jean is not Mr. Bob
|
| Arnold Silvestri
|
| Ha ha ha!
|
Billie Jean is not Arnold Silvestri
|
| Jeane Kirkpatrick
|
Billie Jean is not Kirkpatrick
|
| Lando Calrissian
|
|
|
| [Ike Willis] Give me oxygen
|
| Give me oxygen
|
| Give me oxygen
|
|
|
| Box o’ turds
|
|
|
| [FZ] That’s right, a box o’ turds!
|
| [FZ] While I was down in W.D.C.
|
| Certain folks were not glad to see me
|
| I just tried to get out the vote
|
| But some little weasel must a-dropped ‘em a note
|
| It said: “Check out the politics practiced by this oaf
|
| And if they ain’t just right feed him Confinement Loaf” ▶
|
|
|
| They wanna be
|
| Feedin’ me
|
| Feedin’ me
|
| Feedin’ me
|
| Feedin’ me
|
| Feedin’ me
|
| Feedin’ me
|
| Feedin’ me
|
| Feedin’ me
|
| LOAF… LOAF
|
|
|
| Feedin’ me
|
| Feedin’ me
|
| Feedin’ me
|
| Feedin’ me
|
| Feedin’ me
|
| Feedin’ me
|
| Feedin’ me
|
| Feedin’ me
|
| LOAF… LOAF
|
|
|
| Feedin’ ‘em
|
| Feedin’ ‘em
|
| Feedin’ ‘em
|
| Feedin’ ‘em
|
| Feedin’ ‘em
|
| Feedin’ ‘em
|
| Feedin’ ‘em
|
| Feedin’ ‘em
|
| LOAF… NOW!
|
| [FZ] Alright. Now, this afternoon on my way down the elevator we stopped at the lobby, and I was introduced to a man named Sting who I’d never met before. And, he’s a very nice man, and he came to the show tonight and I just talked to him in the dressing room a little while ago and I said: “How would you, Mr. Sting, like to come up on stage and perform with us?” Now…
|
|
|
| [Sting] How’s […]. It’s not in my nature to kick a man when he’s down. When I saw the first part of the show I realised I had to come up here and tell you something. Well, four years ago Jimmy Swaggart said this about me: he said this here song by the Police, “Murder by numbers”, was written by SATAN! PERFORMED BY THE SONS OF SATAN! BEELZEBUB! LUCIFER! THE HORNED ONE! I wrote the fuckin’ song, alright?
|
|
|
| Once that you’ve decided on a killing
|
| First you make a stone of your heart
|
| If you find that your hands are still willing
|
| Then you can turn a murder into art
|
| There really isn’t any need for bloodshed
|
| You just do it with a little more finesse
|
|
|
| If you can slip a tablet into someone’s coffee
|
| Then it avoids an awful lot of mess because it’s
|
| Murder by numbers, one two three
|
| It’s as easy to learn as your ABC
|
| Murder by numbers, one two three
|
| It’s as easy to learn as your ABC
|
|
|
| Now, if you have a taste for this experience
|
| And you’re flushed with your very first success
|
| Then you must try a twosome or a threesome
|
| And you’ll find your conscience bothers you much less
|
| Because a murder is like anything you take to
|
| It’s a habit-forming need for more and more
|
|
|
| You can bump off every member of your family
|
| And anybody else you find a bore
|
| Because it’s murder by numbers, one two three
|
| It’s as easy to learn as your ABC
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| Murder by numbers, one two three
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| It’s as easy to learn as your ABC
|
|
|
| I said murder by numbers, one two three
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| It’s as easy to learn as your ABC
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| Murder by numbers, one two three
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| It’s as easy to learn as your ABC
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| Murder by numbers A B C D E
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|
|
| [Instrumental]
|
|
|
| [FZ] Mr. Sting, ladies and gentlemen. Mr. Sting.
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| [Ike Willis] Sting!
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| [FZ] Thank you! “Murder by numbers”. And then, suddenly…
|
| [Ike Willis] Jezebel Boy!
|
|
|
| You know all the guys in the Sheriff’s Patrol
|
| They leave you alone when they round up the whores
|
| Up on Hollywood Boulevard
|
|
|
| [FZ] What?
|
| [Ike Willis] Now this is what happens in Los Angeles
|
|
|
| Sometimes that ol’ nasty D.A., you see
|
| Seems to think he needs his name in the paper again
|
| [FZ] That’s when the short-pants girls
|
| [Ike Willis] They have to take that ride with a friendly, friendly policeman
|
|
|
| But the Jezebel Boy
|
| On the corner by the Technicolor processing plant
|
| He stands by the light
|
| Waitin’ through that night
|
| Waitin’… Waitin’ for that… that… that distinguished-looking
|
| Wilshire district Gentleman with snow-white hair
|
|
|
| [Senator Hollings, speeded-up] Maybe I could make a good rock star
|
|
|
| [Ike Willis] To drive up in his Linkum
|
| And whisk away the Jezebel Boy
|
| There he goes now!
|
|
|
| [FZ] Old Ralph will make him put that wretched sausage in his mouth again
|
|
|
| [Ike Willis] Hah hah hah, hah hah hah!
|
| [FZ] Go ahead!
|
| [Ike Willis] Hah hah hah!
|
| [FZ] Want it again?
|
| [Ike Willis] Yeah, sure!
|
| [FZ] Old Ralph will make him put that wretched sausage in his mouth again
|
| And again
|
| [Ike Willis] And yet again
|
| [FZ] And one mo’ ‘gin
|
|
|
| [Ike Willis] Well, hah! Well, you know what they say…
|
| Another day, another sausage
|
| JEZEBEL BOY
|
| [Ike Willis] These executives have plooked the fuck out of me
|
| And there’s still a long time to go before I’ve paid my debt to society
|
| And all I ever really wanted to do was play the guitar an’ bend the string like… ▶
|
| Reent-toont-teent-toont-teent-toont-teenooneenoonee
|
|
|
| I’ve got it
|
| I’ll be sullen and withdrawn
|
| I’ll dwindle off into the twilight realm of my own secret thoughts
|
| I’ll lay on my back here ‘til dawn in a semi-catatonic state
|
| And dream of guitar notes that would irritate
|
| An executive kinda guy…
|
|
|
| Well, I guess that one did the trick
|
| If they only coulda heard it
|
| Half-a-dozen of ‘em woulda strangled while they was suckin’ on each others’ dick
|
| Yeah, but that was only a bunch of imaginary notes I played
|
| Just a little extra somethin’ to keep me goin’ from day to day
|
| But that’s OK
|
| I’m gettin’ outta here pretty soon
|
| Then I won’t have to live in this ugly fuckin’ room
|
|
|
| Hey! I can’t wait to see what it’s like on the outside now…
|
| I can’t wait to see what it’s like on the outside now…
|
| Listen here!
|
| I can’t wait to see what it’s like on the outside now…
|
| Listen here, yeah!
|
| I can’t wait to see what it’s like on the outside now…
|
| Outside now…
|
| Outside now…
|
| Outside now…
|
| Outside…
|
|
|
| [Instrumental]
|
|
|
| (Sing it!)
|
| I can’t wait to see what it’s like on the outside now…
|
| I can’t wait to see what it’s like on the outside now…
|
| Yeah!
|
| I can’t wait to see what it’s like on the outside now…
|
| Yeah!
|
| I can’t wait to see what it’s like on the outside now…
|
| [FZ] I used to have a job an’ I was doin’ fairly well
|
| Depression came along an’ everybody start to yell:
|
| “Where’d they go, them good ol’ days an’ all that crap we used to sell?”
|
| Now I’m in Hot-Plate Heaven at the Green Hotel
|
|
|
| Republicans is fine if you’re a multi-millionaire
|
| Democrats is fair if all you own is what you wear
|
| Neither of ‘em’s really right ‘cause neither of ‘em care
|
| ‘Bout that Hot-Plate Heaven ‘cause they ain’t been there
|
|
|
| They really oughta go an’ find out how the hallway smell
|
| They’d benefit to know ‘bout what the bums in there could tell
|
| (I guess we’re only dreamin’ but I s’pose it’s just as well
|
| That’s all you get to dream up in the Green Hotel)
|
|
|
| [Instrumental]
|
|
|
| [FZ] Nature didn’t put me here an’ neither did my fate
|
| It musta been some evil ol’ Republican candidate
|
| He’s over there in Washington but I wish he was in hell
|
| ‘Cause I’m in Hot-Plate Heaven at the Green Hotel
|
|
|
| Things is slightly better now, they hope we will forget
|
| The misery of “TRICKLE-DOWN” an’ jelly bean etiquette
|
| The Regal Presidential Style has simply not worn well
|
| But neither has my rags up in the Green Hotel
|
|
|
| I said the Green Hotel
|
| I mean the Green Hotel
|
| Been there once the Green Hotel
|
| An’ gone again the Green Hotel
|
| Neither has my rags up in the Green Hotel
|
|
|
| Pass me the dog-food!
|
| [FZ] What’s a girl like you doin’ in a Motel like this?
|
| I left my place after midnight when I first got the call
|
| The escort service I work for said you wanted it ALL!
|
| Well, you came to the right place, this is it
|
| I got the most sanctified johnson in all Louisiana
|
| No shit!
|
|
|
| How true that is!
|
| How true, indeed, llama!
|
| The other whores at the service said you helped fulfill their need!
|
| I like to GET RIGHT DOWN, do you like to get right down too?
|
| Well, what did you have in mind?
|
| Well, I GET OFF BEING SPOO-ED upon… by hypocritical TV preachers with close ties to the Republican Party
|
| WHILE ED MEESE WIPES HIS ASS ON THE U.S. CONSTITUTION, SCREAMIN’:
|
|
|
| “That is, I think I know how t’tune in
|
| But it’s all wrong
|
| That is, I think I disagree
|
|
|
| I don’t think so…
|
| I can’t remember…
|
| I just couldn’t ever do that…”
|
| Gets me so hot I could scream:
|
| “I don’t think so, can’t remember who
|
| Wrote the memo, or to whom it’s to…”
|
|
|
| Hey, your escort service has always been far out an’ groovy
|
| Ever been to the Texas Motel?
|
| Let me take you dow-how-how-how-how-how-hownnnnn!
|
| Magic Jesus by the bed, wall-mounted TV screen
|
| My church plugged into the gravy train and Reagan keeps me clean!
|
|
|
| What kind of girl?
|
| What kind of girl would suck his rod?
|
| What kind of girl?
|
| What kind of girl would suck his rod?
|
| A lazy prostitute!
|
| We wouldn’t blow you just because you know “God”
|
| What kind of girl?
|
| What kind of girl would suck his rod?
|
| This unfortunate little vixen wouldn’t let just anybody spoo all over her lap
|
| She wants an ignorant Cracker TV Evangelist who’s reciting all that crap…
|
| [Eric Buxton] Yes, friends, pass the plate around, friends, join us, friends
|
|
|
| [FZ] There’s an ugly little weasel ‘bout three-foot nine
|
| Face puffed up from cryin’ an’ lyin’
|
| ‘Cause her sweet little hubby’s suckin’ prong part-time
|
| (In the name of The Lord)
|
|
|
| Get a clue, little shrew, oh yeah, oh yeah
|
| Jesus thinks you’re a jerk
|
| Would he really choose Tammy to do His Work? Unh-unh
|
|
|
| Hallelujah!
|
| Yes, friends
|
|
|
| Robertson says that he’s The One
|
| Oh, he sure is, if Armageddon
|
| Is your idea of family fun
|
| An’ he’s got some planned for you!
|
| (Now, tell me that ain’t true)
|
|
|
| ✄ Give me that old time religion!
|
|
|
| Now, what if Jimbo’s slightly gay
|
| Will Pat let Jimbo get away?
|
| Everything we’ve heard him say
|
| Indicates that Jim must pay
|
| And it just might hurt a bit
|
| Just a bit!
|
| But keep that money rollin’ in
|
| ‘Cause Pat and naughty Jimbo can’t get enough of it
|
| Let’s dance!
|
|
|
| Perhaps it’s their idea
|
| Of an Affirmative Action Plan
|
| To give White Trash a “special break”
|
| Well, they took those Jeezo-bucks and ran
|
|
|
| To the bank! To the bank! To the bank! To the bank!
|
| And every night we can hear them thank
|
| Their Buddy, up above
|
| For sending down his love
|
| (While you all smell the glove ▶)
|
|
|
| Henry Cisneros, ladies and gentlemen!
|
|
|
| Jim and Pat should take a pole
|
| (Right up each saintly glory-hole)
|
| With tar and feathers too
|
| Just like they’d love to do to you
|
|
|
| ‘Cause they think you are bad
|
| Yes, they do!
|
| And they are very mad
|
| ‘Cause some folks don’t want prayer in school
|
| We’d need an ark to survive the drool
|
| Of Micro-publicans, raised on hate
|
| And ‘Jimbo-Jumbo’ when they graduate
|
|
|
| Convinced they are “The Chosen Ones”
|
| And all their parents carry guns
|
| Hey, look! Godzilla!
|
| And hold them cards, in the NRA
|
| Ah, hellfire, Melvin, hey hee!
|
| With their fingers on the trigger
|
| “It’s hot”
|
| When they kneel and pray
|
| “I mean that…”
|
|
|
| With a Ku-Klux muumuu in the back of the truck
|
| If you ain’t “Born Again” they wanna mess you up
|
| Screamin’: “No abortion, no sirree!
|
| Life’s too precious, can’t you see!” ▲
|
| ✄ What’s that hangin’ from a neighbor’s tree?
|
| Why, it looks like “colored folks” to me
|
|
|
| Would they do that…
|
| They’ve been doin’ it for years!
|
| Seriously?
|
|
|
| And now, ladies and gentlemen, the dynamic Eric Buxton
|
|
|
| [Eric Buxton] Imagine, if you will, a multi-millionaire TV Evangelist saved from Korean combat duty by his father, a U.S. Senator
|
| Studied law but is not qualified to practice it
|
| Father of a “love child” who, in adulthood, hosts the remnants of papa’s religious propaganda program
|
| Claims not to be a “Faith Healer” but has, in the past dealt sternly with everything from hemorrhoids to hurricanes
|
| Involved with funding for an “undeclared war” in Central America claiming Ronald Reagan and Oliver North as close friends
|
| Involved in suspicious “tax-avoidance schemes” (under investigation for 16 months by the IRS)
|
| Claims to be a MAN OF GOD
|
| Currently seeking the United States presidency
|
| Hoping we will all follow him into The Twilight Zone
|
|
|
| [Ike Willis] But hey, what if Pat gets in the White House?
|
| [FZ] No fuckin’ way, Ike, you know what I mean?
|
| [Ike Willis] The rights of “certain people” disappear
|
| Mysteriously?
|
|
|
| [FZ] Now, wouldn’t that sort of qualify as an American Tragedy?
|
| (‘Specially if they cover it up sayin’ “Jesus told it to me!”)
|
| I mean vapor tight, we’re like this, OK? I mean that
|
| I hope we never see that day
|
| I mean that. Right here. It’s hot. It’s hot.
|
| In The Land of The Free
|
| Or someday will we?
|
| 92?
|
| Will we?
|
| 96?
|
|
|
| And if you don’t know by now
|
| The truth of what I’m tellin’ you
|
| Then surely I have failed somehow
|
| Surely I have failed somehow
|
| Surely I have failed somehow
|
|
|
| And Jesus will think I’m a jerk, just like you
|
| If you let those TV Preachers make a monkey out of you!
|
| I said: “Jesus will think you’re a jerk” and it would be TRUE!
|
|
|
| There’s an ✄ old rugged cross in the Land of the Stainless Maiden
|
| It’s just burnin’ on the lawn but this person looks like Tom Braden!
|
|
|
| Jim and Tammy!
|
| Oh, baby!
|
| You gotta go!
|
| You really got to go!
|
| Jim and Tammy got to go
|
|
|
| Ladies and gentlemen, this is intermission. Get your butt out there and register to vote! Would you please? See you in a half an hour!
|
 Photo by Lynn Goldsmith.jpg "(Front) Photo by Lynn Goldsmith")
.jpg "(LP inside left)")
.jpg "(LP inside right)")
.jpg "(LP back)")
Songs list
| 
Title origin
|
Listen original song on YouTube
|