Happy New Year to you, Hazy
Become a Patron!
What song are you playing right now?
- Thread starter No Ash More Cash
- Start date
Here's something for y'all & hopefully the New Year has been a good 1.
Happy new ano to y'all.
Hidy there hazemeister!
Hidy there hazemeister!
If there are teats on the album cover, then....
Conyo to you homey!
Flies all green 'n buzzin' in his dungeon of despair
Prisoners grumble and piss their clothes and scratch their matted hair
A tiny light from a window hole a hundred yards away
Is all they ever get to know about the regular life in the day;
An' it stinks so bad the stones been chokin'
'N weepin' greenish drops
In the room where the giant fire puffer works
'N the torture never stops
The torture never stops
Slime 'n rot, rats 'n snot 'n vomit on the floor
Fifty ugly soldiers, man, holdin' spears by the iron door
Knives 'n spikes 'n guns 'n the likes of every tool of pain
An' a sinister midget with a bucket an' a mop where the blood goes down the drain;
An' it stinks so bad the stones been chokin'
'N weepin' greenish drops
In the room where the giant fire puffer works
'N the torture never stops
The torture never stops
The torture
The torture
The torture never stops.
Flies all green 'n buzzin' in his dungeon of despair
An evil prince eats a steamin' pig in a chamber right near there
He eats the snouts 'n the trotters first
The loin's 'n the groin's is soon dispersed
His carvin' style is well rehearsed
He stands and shouts
All men be cursed
All men be cursed
All men be cursed
All men be cursed
And disagree, well no-one durst
He's the best of course of all the worst
Some wrong been done, he done it first
(Well, well) An' he stinks so bad, his bones been chokin'
(Yeah) 'N weepin' greenish drops,
(Well) In the night of the iron sausage,
(Well) Where the torture never stops
The torture never stops
The torture
The torture
The torture never stops.
Flies all green 'n buzzin' in his dungeon of despair
Who are all those people that he's locked away up there
Are they crazy?,
Are they sainted?
Are they zeros someone painted?,
It has never been explained since at first it was created
But a dungeon like a sin
Requires naught but lockin' in
Of everything that's ever been
Look at hers
Look at him
That's what's the deal we're dealing in
That's what's the deal we're dealing in
That's what's the deal we're dealing in
That's what's the deal we're dealing in
Used to love these guys when they came out. Yeah, I’m old.
Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
Sent from my SM-N950U using Tapatalk
love this song
The clouds are really cheap
The way I seen 'em thru the ports
Of which there is a half-a-dozen
On the base of my resorz
You wouldn't think I'd have too many
Since I never cared for sports
But I'm never really lonely
In my Excentrifugal Forz
There's always Korla Plankton
Him 'n me can play the blues
An' then I'll watch him buff that
Tiny ruby that he use
He'll straighten up his turban
An' eject a little ooze
Along a one-celled Hammond Organism
Underneath my shoes
An' then I'll call PUP TENTACLE
I'll ask him how's his chin
I'll fine out
How the future is
Because that's where he's been
His little feet got long 'n flexible
An' suckers fell right in
The time he crossed the line
From LATER ON to WAY BACK WHEN
Frank zappa (lead guitar, vocals)
Napoleon murphy brock (saxophone, vocals)
George duke (keyboards, vocals)
Ruth underwood (percussion)
Tom fowler (bass)
Chester thompson (drums)
In the dark
Where all the fevers grow
Under the water
(water)
Where the shark bubbles blow
In the mornin
(mornin)
By yer radio
(radio!)
Do the walls close in tsuffocate ya
You aint got no friends . . .
An all the others: they hate ya
Does the life you been leadin gotta go?
Well, let me straighten you out
About a little russian restaurant I know . . .
(get yer shoes n socks on people, it's right aroun the corner!)
Out through the night
An the whisperin breezes
To the place where they keep
The imaginary diseases
Out through the night
An the whisperin breezes
To the place where they keep
The imaginary diseases . . .
Now scientists call this disease bromidrosis
(that's right!)
And well they should
Even napoleon knows that
But us regular folks
Who might wear a tennis shoe
Or an occasional python boot
Know this exquisite little inconvenience by the name of:
Stink foot
Yknow, my python boot is too tight
I couldnt get it off last night
A week went by, an now it's july
I finally got it off
An my girl-friend cry
You got stink foot! stink foot, darlin
Your stink foot puts a hurt on my nose!
Stink foot! stink foot! I aint lyin,
Can you rinse it off, dyou suppose?
Here fido . . . fido . . .
Here fido . . . bring the slippers little puppy
Yes, that's a good dog! yes!
Arf, arf, arf!
But one night, at the
Social Club meeting Mary didn't show up...
She was sucking cock backstage at The Armory
In order to get a pass To see some big rock group for free...
[SCENE FOUR]
[CREW SLUT]
Backstage at the local Armory, MARY, in her little white dress,
is wiping the remnants of her performance off the side of her mouth
as LARRY (the guy from the garage who quit the band in order to make
an honest living) zips up the front of his stinking boiler suit and sings
to the same teen-age girls who were stomping and clapping a little while ago,
as they kneel with their little pink mouths open near the crew bus,
hoping to save the price of admission by performing acts of Hooverism on
the jolly lads who set up the P. A. System.
[LARRY:]
Hey Hey Hey all you girls in these
Industrial towns
I know you're prob'ly gettin' tired
Of all the local clowns
They never give you no respect
They never treat you nice
So perhaps you oughta try
A little friendly advice
And be a CREW SLUT
Hey, you 'll love it
Be a CREW SLUT
It's a way of life
Be a CREW SLUT
See the world
Don't make a fuss, just get on the bus
CREW SLUT
Add water, makes its own sauce
Be a CREW SLUT
So you don't forget, call before midnite tonite
The boys in the crew
Are fust waiting for you
You never get to move around
You never go nowhere
I know yer prob'ly gettin' tired
Of all the guys out there
You always wondered what it's like
To go from place to place
So, darlin', take a little ride
On the mixer's face
Be a CREW SLUT
Just follow the magic footprints
Be a CREW SLUT
Hey, you'll love it!
Be a CREW SLUT
It's a way of life
I ain't gonna squash it
And you don't need to wash it!
CREW SLUT
Hey, I'll buy you a pizza
CREW SLUT
Of course I'll introduce you to Warren
The boys in the crew
Are only waiting for you
At this point, the road crew, as all road crews must from time to time,
borrow some of the big rock group's equipment and have a blues jam
session, indicating to the kneeling maidens that they are endowed with
a great deal of raw talent, as well as massive meat. Obviously impressed
with LARRY'S ability to suck so hard on his harmonica that screeching
little noises come out of it, MARY kneels again and reaches upward in
gestures of supplication, listening intently as LARRY continues to sing...
[LARRY:]
Well you been to Alabama, girl,
'N' Georgia too
'N' all the boys in thecrew
Is bein' good to you
I know yer sayin' to yourself
'This is the way to go
'Cause when you need a little extra
They will give you some mo'
'Cause you're the CREW SLUT
[MARY:]
I'm into leather...
[LARRY:]
That s good! A lot of the boys in the crew
Love leather...
[MARY:]
And rubber...
[LARRY:]
Yeh, they like rubber too... shrink- tubing
With a hair dryer...
[ROAD CREW CHORUS:]
Trade your spot on the bench
For a guy with a wrench
[MARY:]
Ha ha ha...
[LARRY:]
You like that, huh?
I told you you'd love it...
It's a way of life!
[ROAD CREW CHORUS:]
The guys in the crew
Have got a present for you!
[MARY:]
A present for me?
[LARRY:] We got a present for you!
[MARY:]
Whaddya got?
Whaddya gonna give me?
[LARRY:]
It looks just like a TeleFunken U-47
You'll love it...
[MARY:] With leather?
[CENTRAL SCRUTINIZER:]
Eherrr, eh eh...This is the CENTRAL SCRUTINIZER again...
And so MARY was enticed away from Joe
By an evil barbarian with a wrench in his pocket
Lured into a life of SLEAZERY
With the entire road crew of some Famous Rock Group (I don't know whether it
was Toad-O... I don't know... I'll check it out)
Again we see MUSIC
Causing BIG TROUBLE!
Frank zappa (lead guitar, vocals)
Warren cucurullo (rhythm guitar, vocals)
Denny walley (slide guitar, vocals)
Ike willis (lead vocals)
Peter wolf (keyboards)
Tommy mars (keyboards)
Arthur barrow (bass, vocals)
Ed mann (percussion)
Vinnie colaiuta (drums)
Jeff (tenor saxophone)
Marginal chagrin (baritone saxophone)
Stumuk (bass saxophone)
Dale bozzio (vocals)
Al malkin (vocals)
Craig steward (harmonica)
After a few weeks on the bus, being porked by toad-os road crew, and being too exhausted to do their laundry on a regular basis, mary is dumped in miami. With no money (and no other famous rock
Ps due into the area for at least three weeks), she tries to pick up a few bucks by entering the wet t-shirt contest at the brasserie...
Ike:
Looks to me like something funny is going on around here people laughin n dancin n payin entirely too much for their beer and they all think they are clean outa-site and they're ready to
Cause the sign outside says it's wet t-shirt nite n they all crave some hot delight well the girls are excited because in a minute they're gonna get wet n the boys are delighted because al
Titties will get em upset n they all think they are reety-awright n they're ready to boogie cause the sign outside says it's wet t-shirt nite n they all crave some pink delight when the
Are gets on em their ninnies get rigid n look pretty bold it's a common reaction that makes an attraction whenever it's cold n all of the fellas they wish they could bite on the cute little n
S the local girls are showin off tonite you know I think it serves em right you know I think it serves em right you know I think it serves em right you know I think it serves em right and I
Et t-shirt time again I know
You want someone to show you some tit! Big ones! Wet ones! Big wet ones!
At this point, father riley (who had been recently de-frocked for not meeting his quota, and has grown his hair out and bought a groovy sport coat and moved to miami and changed his name to budd
Es) steps onto the crowded bandstand in his exciting new role as a wet t-shirt contest emcee...
Buddy jones:
Ah, thanks, ike... Yes, it's wet t-shirt time again here at the brasserie... Home of the tits... Huh huh... And it's the charming mary from canoga park up next in her bid for the semi-finals... H
Ry... Howya doin?
Having been fucked senseless by the boys in the crew, mary does not recognize the former religious personage from her nights in the rectory basement during which she acquired her basic manual sk
.. Confounded by his sport coat, she replies...
Mary:
Hi!
Realizing that she no longer recognizes him... Or even appreciates the patient religious training he had given her in the past, buddy jones, like a true wet t-shirt emcee type person, proceeds to
Various stupid things to waste time, making the contest itself take longer, thereby giving the mongoloids squatting on the dance floor an opportunity to buy more exciting beverages... Liquid prod
That will expand their consciousnesses to the point whereby they might more fully enjoy the ambiance of miami by night...
Buddy jones:
Where ya from?
Mary:
Ah, the bus...
Buddy jones:
Which one?
Mary:
You know... The last tour... You know... Leather
Buddy jones:
Oh... You were the girl stuck to seat 38 phydeaux iii... Why don't you get in position and take a deep breath, because this water is very, very cold, but it's goin to be so stimulating. And mary
E kind of red- blooded american girl wholl do anything...
Mary:
Anything...
Buddy jones:
I said anything... For fifty bucks that's right!
Mary:
I really need the fifty bucks you know I gotta get home!
Buddy jones:
Yeh, I know, your father is waiting for you in the tool shed... That's right, you heard right... Our big prize tonite is fifty american dollars to the girl with the most exciting mammalian protube
S...
Mary:
Here I am!
Buddy jones:
... As viewed through a thoroughly soaked, stupid looking white sort of male persons conservative kind of middle-of-the-road cotton undergarment! Whoopee! And here comes the water!
Mary:
Eeek!
Buddy jones:
No, you'd squeak more if the water got on you... Sounds like you just got an ice pick in the forehead... And here comes the ice pick in the forehead... A million laughs, mary! Anyway; good golly,
A mess... Shes totally soaked... Yeh, totally committed to the fifty bucks... That's it just step into the spotlight... Let the guys get a good look at ya honey!
Mary:
Here I am!
Buddy jones:
Whaddya say, fellas? Nice setta jugs? Now mary, hows about shakin it around a little...
Mary:
Ooooh!
Buddy jones:
Oh my goodness, look at her go!
Mary:
Oooh! I'm dancing! I'm dancing!
Buddy jones:
Aint this what living is really all about! Heres your fifty bucks mary...
Mary:
Oh great! Now I can go home!
Buddy jones:
Home is where the heart is.
Mary:
On the bus.
Whereupon the house combo at the Brasserie drifts into a modified
version of one of Toad-O's big hit numbers BUDDY JONES stares
longingly at the little nozzles pooching out of Mary's moistened
upper clothing, but it's too late...WARREN, one of the other guys
from Joe's Garage Band has already recognized her (he's now one of
the foremost disco-fusion rhythm guitar players on the Wet T-shirt
Circuit, currently providing exciting strummery here in Miami), and
is in the process of getting the details of her life on the bus with
LARRY and the other jolly road crew lads. He eventually sends JOE a
letter with this information in it...
Central Scrutinizer:
This is the CENTRAL SCRUTINIZER...Meanwhile, Joe hears about Mary's
naughty exploits. He falls in with a fast crowd and gets seduced by
a girl who works at the Jack-In-The-Box, named Lucille, who gives
him an unpronounceable disease...
Well, yeah, well,
Oh yeah,
She was a fine girl
She could get down wit de get down
All de way down
She do yer laundry
She change a tire
Chop a little wood for de fire
Poke it around ... if it died down
Oh yeah,
She was a fine girl
She go up in the mornin'
She go down in the evenin'... all de way down
She do the dishes
If you wishes
Silverware too
Make it look brand new... when she get through
Oh yeah,
She was a fine girl
Outa this world
Well, yeah, well, yeah, well, yeah, well,
Oh yeah,
She was a fine girl
She could get down wit de get down
All de way down
She do your laundry
She change a tire
Chop a little wood for de fire
Poke it around ... if it died rlown
Oh yeah
She was a fine girl
With a lovely smile
With a bucket on her head
Fulla water from de well
She could run a mile
Oh yeah
She wouldn't spill a drop
It'd stay on top
Her head was kinda flat
But her hair covered that
She was a fine girl
Didn't need no school
She was built like a mule
With a thong sandal
Well, wasn't no kinda job she could not handle
She could get down ... wit de get down
All de way down
We need some more like dat, in dis kinda town
We need some more like dat, in dis kinda town
George duke (keyboards, synthesizer, lead vocals)
Napoleon murphy brock (flute, tenor saxophone, vocals)
Chester thompson (drums)
Tom fowler (bass)
Ruth underwood (vibes, marimba, percussion)
Bloodshot rollin' red (harmonica)
Did a vehicle
Come from somewhere out there
Just to land in the andes?
Was it round
And did it have
A motor
Or was it
Something
Different
Did a vehicle
Did a vehicle
Did a vehicle
Fly along the mountains
And find a place to park itself
Or did someone
Build a place
To leave a space
For such a vehicle to land
Did a vehicle
Come from somewhere out there
Did a vehicle
Come from somewhere out there
Did the indians, first on the bill
Carve up the hill
Did a booger-bear
Come from somewhere out there
Just to land in the andes?
Was she round
And did she have a motor
Or was she something different
Guacamole queen
Guacamole queen
Guacamole queen
Guacamole queen
At the armadillo in austin texas, her aura,
Or did someone build a place
Or leave a space for chester's thing to land
(chester's thing... on ruth)
Did a booger-beer
Come from somewhere out there
Did a booger-bear
Come from somewhere out there
Did the indians, first on the bill
Carve up her hill
On ruth
On ruth
That's ruth
Songwriters: BURT F BACHARACH, HAL DAVID
Dig synthesizers?
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tonto's_Expanding_Head_Band
The most awesome multitimbral polyphonic analog synth ever... still no one has matched the awesomenes: They try real hard with DCOs, DCFs, and pre-programmed algorithms.
They even try with software and peecees.
Nope. It's analog.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tonto's_Expanding_Head_Band
The most awesome multitimbral polyphonic analog synth ever... still no one has matched the awesomenes: They try real hard with DCOs, DCFs, and pre-programmed algorithms.
They even try with software and peecees.
Nope. It's analog.
Last edited:
Nice to ears.Title pretty much sums it up... ALL genres of music welcome
If anyone can't link/embed the video..I'll be happy to do it for you...Just post the Artiest and Song
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
Rendezvous on Champs-Elysees
Leave Paris in the morning on T.E.E.
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
In Vienna we sit in a late-night cafe
Straight connection, T.E.E.
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
From station to station
Back to Dusseldorf City
Meet Iggy Pop and David Bowie
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
Songwriters: EMIL SCHULT, RALF HUETTER
Headphones.
Unfortunately, it's not 3-D.
Wir fahr'n fahr'n fahr'n auf der Autobahn
Vor uns liegt ein weites Tal
Die Sonne scheint mit Glitzerstrahl
Die Fahrbahn ist ein graues Band
Weisse Streifen, gruener Rand
Jetzt schalten wir ja das Radio an
Aus dem Lautsprecher klingt es dann:
Wir fah'rn auf der Autobahn
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
We are driving on the Autobahn
In front of us is a wide valley
The sun is shining with glittering rays
The driving strip is a grey track
White stripes, green edge
We are switching the radio on
From the speaker it sounds:
We are driving on the Autobahn
Songwriters: EMIL SCHULT, FLORIAN SCHNEIDER-ESLEBEN, RALF HUETTER
Unfortunately, it's not 3-D.
Wir fahr'n fahr'n fahr'n auf der Autobahn
Vor uns liegt ein weites Tal
Die Sonne scheint mit Glitzerstrahl
Die Fahrbahn ist ein graues Band
Weisse Streifen, gruener Rand
Jetzt schalten wir ja das Radio an
Aus dem Lautsprecher klingt es dann:
Wir fah'rn auf der Autobahn
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
We are driving on the Autobahn
In front of us is a wide valley
The sun is shining with glittering rays
The driving strip is a grey track
White stripes, green edge
We are switching the radio on
From the speaker it sounds:
We are driving on the Autobahn
Songwriters: EMIL SCHULT, FLORIAN SCHNEIDER-ESLEBEN, RALF HUETTER
Last edited:
This here has a little 3-D processing.
Crank it or put on the 'phones.
Crank it or put on the 'phones.
don thine 'phones.
This is stereo 3-d.
...and perty badass.
This is stereo 3-d.
...and perty badass.
Last edited:
3-d