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- Thread starter No Ash More Cash
- Start date
Not sure where Deep Purple came up with this one...^
Can't forget about:
With Satan's hog no pig at all
And the weather's getting dry
We'll head south from Altamont
In a cold-blood traveled trance
So clear the road, my bully boys
And let some thunder pass
We're pain, we're steel, a plot of knives
We're Transmaniacon MC
Behind the pantry, behind the tree
The ghouls adopt that child
Whose name resound forever
Whose name resounds in terror
And I'm no fool to call that hog
'Cause man, I remember
Those who did resign their souls
To Transmaniacon MC
And surely we did offer up
Behind that stage at dawn
Beers and barracuda, reds and monocaine, yeah
Pure nectar of antipathy
Behind that stage at dawn
To those who would resign their souls
To Transmaniacon MC
Cry the cable, cry the word
Unknown terror's here
And won't you try this tasty snack
Behind the scene or but the back
Which was the stage at Altamont
My humble boys of listless power
We're pain, we're steel, a plot of knives
We're Transmaniacon...
Look, all right! You can feel it!
Songwriters: ALBERT BOUCHARD, DONALD ROESER, E BLOOM, SAMUEL PEARLMAN
With Satan's hog no pig at all
And the weather's getting dry
We'll head south from Altamont
In a cold-blood traveled trance
So clear the road, my bully boys
And let some thunder pass
We're pain, we're steel, a plot of knives
We're Transmaniacon MC
Behind the pantry, behind the tree
The ghouls adopt that child
Whose name resound forever
Whose name resounds in terror
And I'm no fool to call that hog
'Cause man, I remember
Those who did resign their souls
To Transmaniacon MC
And surely we did offer up
Behind that stage at dawn
Beers and barracuda, reds and monocaine, yeah
Pure nectar of antipathy
Behind that stage at dawn
To those who would resign their souls
To Transmaniacon MC
Cry the cable, cry the word
Unknown terror's here
And won't you try this tasty snack
Behind the scene or but the back
Which was the stage at Altamont
My humble boys of listless power
We're pain, we're steel, a plot of knives
We're Transmaniacon...
Look, all right! You can feel it!
Songwriters: ALBERT BOUCHARD, DONALD ROESER, E BLOOM, SAMUEL PEARLMAN
Last edited:
Hey snake,
A cheerful little ditty with no bass player...
One of my favorite albums.
Hammond/Piano/Vocals, Drums, Guitar
Death walks behind you
Death walks behind you
Lock the door, switch the light
You'll be so afraid tonight
Hide away from the beast
Count the nine lives that you have
Start to scream, shout for help
There is no one by your side
To forget what is done
Seems so hard to carry on
Luck is gone, end is near
Bring yourself to understand
It's your fate, or what's cast
Point a finger at yourself
Death walks behind you
Death walks behind you
Death walks behind you
Death walks behind you
Death walks behind you
Death walks behind you
Death walks behind you
Lock the door, switch the light
You'll be so afraid tonight
Hide away from the beast
Count the nine lives that you have
Start to scream, shout for help
There is no one by your side
To forget what is done
Seems so hard to carry on
Seems so hard to carry on, carry on
Death walks behind you
Death walks behind you
Death walks behind you
A cheerful little ditty with no bass player...
One of my favorite albums.
Hammond/Piano/Vocals, Drums, Guitar
Death walks behind you
Death walks behind you
Lock the door, switch the light
You'll be so afraid tonight
Hide away from the beast
Count the nine lives that you have
Start to scream, shout for help
There is no one by your side
To forget what is done
Seems so hard to carry on
Luck is gone, end is near
Bring yourself to understand
It's your fate, or what's cast
Point a finger at yourself
Death walks behind you
Death walks behind you
Death walks behind you
Death walks behind you
Death walks behind you
Death walks behind you
Death walks behind you
Lock the door, switch the light
You'll be so afraid tonight
Hide away from the beast
Count the nine lives that you have
Start to scream, shout for help
There is no one by your side
To forget what is done
Seems so hard to carry on
Seems so hard to carry on, carry on
Death walks behind you
Death walks behind you
Death walks behind you
Uncle Frank way before we were borneded.
They say I'm the cutest boy in town!
My car is fast, my teeth are shiny,
I tell all the girls they can kiss my heine!
Here I am at a famous school,
I present sharp and I'm acting cool
I've got a cheerleader here wants to help
With my paper let her do all the work
And maybe later I rape her!
Oh, god I am the American dream
I do not think I'm too extreme
And I'm a handsome son of a bitch,
I'm gonna get a good job and be real rich!
(Get a good, get a good, get a good, get a good)
Womans liberation
Came creeping all across the nation
I tell you, people, I was not ready
When I fucked this Dyke by the name of Freddi!
She made a little speech then,
Oh she tried to make me say when
She had my balls in a vice but she left the dick,
I guess it's still hooked on but now it shoots to quick!
Oh, god I am the American dream,
But now I smell like Vaseline
And I'm a miserable son of a bitch
Am I a boy or a lady I don't know which!
(I wonder, wonder, wonder, wonder)
So I went out and bought me a leisure suit
I jingling my change but I'm still kind cute
Got a job, doing radio promo,
And none of the jocks can even tell I'm a ****!
Eventually me and a friend,
Sort of drifted along into S&M
I can take about an hour on the tower of power,
As long as I get my little golden shower
Oh, god I am the American dream,
With a spindle up my butt till it makes me scream
An' I'll do anything to get ahead
I lay awake nights sayin, ' "Thank you, Fred!"
Oh God, Oh God, I'm so fantastic!
Thanks to Freddie, I'm a sexual spastic
And my name is Bobby Brown
Watch me now; I'm goin' down,
And my name is Bobby Brown
Watch me now; I'm goin' down,
And my name is Bobby Brown,
Watch me now, I'm going down
Haha, yeah, I knew you'd be surprised!
Songwriters: Frank Zappa
Flies all green and buzzin'
In this dungeon of despair
Prisoners grumblin
Piss they clothes
Scratch their matted hair
A tiny light from a window-hole
Hundred yards away
That all they ever get to know
'Bout the regular life in the day
'Bout the regular life in the day
Slime and rot and rats and snuck
Vomit on the floor
Fifty ugly soldier men
Holdin' spears by the iron door
Stinks so bad, stones are chokin'
Weepin' greenish drops
In the den where
The giant fire puffer works
And the torture never stops
The torture never stops, torture
The torture never stops
The torture never stops
Flies all green and buzzin'
In this dungeon of despair
An evil prince eats a steamin' pig
In a tumbers right near there
In the chambers right near there
He eats de snouts an trotters first!
The loins and the groins are then dispersed
His carvin' style is well rehearsed
He stands and shouts
All men be cursed (4x)
And disagree it, well no one durst
He the best of cause of all the woist
Best of cause of all the woist
He stinks so bad his stones been chokin'
Weepin' greenish drops
In the room with the iron maiden
And the torture never stops, torture
Torture never stops
Torture never stops, torture
Torture never stops
Flies all green and buzzin'
In dungeon of despair
Who are'll those people
That is shut away down there
Are they crazy
Are they sainted
Are they heroes someone painted
Someone painted
Are they -isms
Later ornated
Once they come they have been tainted
Once they come they have been tainted
Never been explained
Since at first it was created
But a dungeon and his kin'
Require naught but lockin' in
Of any anything that's been
Could be a her but it's probly a him
Could be a her but it's probly a him
Its what's the deal were dealin' in
Its what's the deal were dealin' in
An he stinks so bad it's hurt
To the pearl and the piles of blast
Any dungeon have a trailer
Were the torture never stops, torture
Torture never stops
Torture never stops, torture
Torture never stops
Torture never stops, talkin' to you
Torture never stops
Songwriters: Frank Vincent Zappa
Stay with me here...
Frank Zappa (lead guitar, vocals)
Ike Willis (rhythm guitar, vocals)
Ray White (rhythm guitar, vocals)
Steve Vai (rhythm guitar, vocals)
Warren Cucurullo (rhythm guitar, vocals)
Denny Walley (slide guitar, vocals)
Tommy Mars (keyboards, vocals)
Peter Wolf (keyboards)
Bob Harris (keyboards, trumpet, vocals)
Ed Mann (percussion)
Arthur Barrow (bass, vocals)
Vinnie Colaiuta (drums)
FZ:
"One of, one of the things that I like best about playing in New York is this particular place, because it has - it has a stage that is conducive to, how you say in the trade, audience participation. Now if there's one thing that I really like, it's, uh, audience participation. Now listen... I gotta figure out something that I can, uh - do you think we should have another dance contest tonight? Oh, hey - the injured person dance contest. Ah, well, let's see...Awright, I'll tell you what we're going to do. Here's a, here's a guy who really wants to be in the dance contest aw-reety, aw-righty, hey. Okay..."
BUTCH:
"You are great, man - you are great. You are the best, baby. Do 'Dinah-Moe Humm.'"
FZ:
"All right, now wait a minute - what's your name? Hey, hey - what's your name?"
BUTCH:
"Butch."
FZ:
"Awright, the dynamic Butch. Here's, here's a girl that wants to dance with Butch. What's your name?"
LENA:
"Lena."
FZ:
"What?"
LENA:
"Lena."
FZ:
"Lena, meet Butch. Okay, Lena and Butch, couple number one. Heh heh. Okay, let's see - that guy there, with his...that - that one there with the teeshirt on - no, no, the other one - this one - no, no - no no no, wait a minute, wait... well, you're - actually, you're very nice, though. Would you like to come up here? ...Okay, but d'you think you can behave yourself? You, you're sure you can behave yourself? ...Okay, what's your name?"
GUY:
"Tom, man. (mumble, mumble) you, baby, I (mumble, mumble)(gurgle) you (mumble, mmf, etc.)."
GUY:
"Arrgh, mmmf, glurg, etc."
FZ:
"Awright, now wait a minute. Awright, awright, now wait..."
GUY:
"(mumble, mmf.) Ugliness! Ugliness!"
OTHER GUY:
"Frank, you're my buddy! Arrgh, mmf."
FZ:
"Awright, wait a minute, wait a minute. I have an important message to deliver to all the cute people all over the world. If you're out there and you're cute, maybe you're beautiful, I just want to tell you somethin' - there's more of us ugly mother-fuckers than you are, hey-y, so watch out. Now..."
GUY (BUTCH?):
"Will you bring my girlfriend on stage, maybe?"
FZ:
"Sure. All right, now you - he wants to get his girlfriend - go get your girlfriend."
GIRL:
"Hey Zap!"
FZ:
"Good to see you again."
GIRL:
"Squeak!"
FZ:
"I know."
GUY:
"I ain't no fucking queer."
FZ:
"All right, now look, here's what we're going to do. Awright. Now. This - they'll be mashed, I'll save them, I'll save them for later."
GUY:
"I'm not a fucking queer."
FZ:
"This man is trying desperately to let everybody know that he's not a queer. He's not queer, he's not queer. Awright, and now... You are going to dance, like you've never danced before..."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Your Ethos
Your Pathos
Your Porthos
Your Aramis
Your Brut Cologne
You're writing home
You are hopeless
Your hopelessness
Is rising around you, rising around you
You like it
It gives you something to do
In the day time
Hey buddy, you need a hobby
You are tired of moving forward
You think of the future
And secretly you piddle your pants
The puddle of piddle
Which used to be little
Is rising around you, rising around you
You like it
It gives you something to do
In the night time
Well, you travel to bars
You also go to Winchell's Doughnuts
And hang out with the Highway Patrol
Sometimes you'll go to a pizza place
You go toSharkey's to get that
American kind of pizza
That has the ugly, waxey, fake yellow kind
Of yellow Cheese on the top...
Then you go to Straw Hat Pizza,
To get all of those artificial ingredients
That never belonged on a pizza in the first place
(But the white people really like it...)
Oh well, you'll go anyplace, you'll do anything
Oh you'll give me your underpants
I hope these aren't yours, buddy...
They're very nice, though
You'll go to Santa Monica Boulevard,
You'll go to the Blue Parrot
No problem, you'll go anyplace
You'll do anything
Just so you can hang out with the others
The others just like you
Afraid of the future
(Death Valley Days, straight ahead)
The future is scary
Yes, it sure is
Well, the puddle is rising
It smells like the ocean
A body of water to isolate England
And also Reseda
The oil, in patches
All over Atlantis, Atlantis
You remember Atlantis
Donovan, the guy with the brocade coat,
Used to sing to you about Atlantis
You loved it, you were so involved then
That was back in the days when you used to
Smoke a banana
You would scrape the stuff off the middle
You would smoke it
You even thought you was getting ripped from it
No problem
Ah Atlantis, they could really get down there
The plankton, the krill
The giant underwater pyramid, the squid decor
Excuse me. Todd
The big ol' giant underwater door
The dome, the bubbles, the blue light
Light, light, light, light
Blue light blue light
The seepage, the sewage, the rubbers, the napkins
Your ethos, your pathos
Your flag hole, your port-hole
Your language
You're frightened
Your future
You can't even speak your own fucking language
You can't read it anymore
You can't write it anymore
Your language
The future of your language
Your meat loaf
Don't let your meat loaf
Heh, Heh, Heh
Your Micro-Nanette
Your Brut
Cologne
Writer(s): Frank Zappa
Frank Zappa (lead guitar, vocals)
Ike Willis (rhythm guitar, vocals)
Ray White (rhythm guitar, vocals)
Steve Vai (rhythm guitar, vocals)
Warren Cucurullo (rhythm guitar, vocals)
Denny Walley (slide guitar, vocals)
Tommy Mars (keyboards, vocals)
Peter Wolf (keyboards)
Bob Harris (keyboards, trumpet, vocals)
Ed Mann (percussion)
Arthur Barrow (bass, vocals)
Vinnie Colaiuta (drums)
FZ:
"One of, one of the things that I like best about playing in New York is this particular place, because it has - it has a stage that is conducive to, how you say in the trade, audience participation. Now if there's one thing that I really like, it's, uh, audience participation. Now listen... I gotta figure out something that I can, uh - do you think we should have another dance contest tonight? Oh, hey - the injured person dance contest. Ah, well, let's see...Awright, I'll tell you what we're going to do. Here's a, here's a guy who really wants to be in the dance contest aw-reety, aw-righty, hey. Okay..."
BUTCH:
"You are great, man - you are great. You are the best, baby. Do 'Dinah-Moe Humm.'"
FZ:
"All right, now wait a minute - what's your name? Hey, hey - what's your name?"
BUTCH:
"Butch."
FZ:
"Awright, the dynamic Butch. Here's, here's a girl that wants to dance with Butch. What's your name?"
LENA:
"Lena."
FZ:
"What?"
LENA:
"Lena."
FZ:
"Lena, meet Butch. Okay, Lena and Butch, couple number one. Heh heh. Okay, let's see - that guy there, with his...that - that one there with the teeshirt on - no, no, the other one - this one - no, no - no no no, wait a minute, wait... well, you're - actually, you're very nice, though. Would you like to come up here? ...Okay, but d'you think you can behave yourself? You, you're sure you can behave yourself? ...Okay, what's your name?"
GUY:
"Tom, man. (mumble, mumble) you, baby, I (mumble, mumble)(gurgle) you (mumble, mmf, etc.)."
GUY:
"Arrgh, mmmf, glurg, etc."
FZ:
"Awright, now wait a minute. Awright, awright, now wait..."
GUY:
"(mumble, mmf.) Ugliness! Ugliness!"
OTHER GUY:
"Frank, you're my buddy! Arrgh, mmf."
FZ:
"Awright, wait a minute, wait a minute. I have an important message to deliver to all the cute people all over the world. If you're out there and you're cute, maybe you're beautiful, I just want to tell you somethin' - there's more of us ugly mother-fuckers than you are, hey-y, so watch out. Now..."
GUY (BUTCH?):
"Will you bring my girlfriend on stage, maybe?"
FZ:
"Sure. All right, now you - he wants to get his girlfriend - go get your girlfriend."
GIRL:
"Hey Zap!"
FZ:
"Good to see you again."
GIRL:
"Squeak!"
FZ:
"I know."
GUY:
"I ain't no fucking queer."
FZ:
"All right, now look, here's what we're going to do. Awright. Now. This - they'll be mashed, I'll save them, I'll save them for later."
GUY:
"I'm not a fucking queer."
FZ:
"This man is trying desperately to let everybody know that he's not a queer. He's not queer, he's not queer. Awright, and now... You are going to dance, like you've never danced before..."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Your Ethos
Your Pathos
Your Porthos
Your Aramis
Your Brut Cologne
You're writing home
You are hopeless
Your hopelessness
Is rising around you, rising around you
You like it
It gives you something to do
In the day time
Hey buddy, you need a hobby
You are tired of moving forward
You think of the future
And secretly you piddle your pants
The puddle of piddle
Which used to be little
Is rising around you, rising around you
You like it
It gives you something to do
In the night time
Well, you travel to bars
You also go to Winchell's Doughnuts
And hang out with the Highway Patrol
Sometimes you'll go to a pizza place
You go toSharkey's to get that
American kind of pizza
That has the ugly, waxey, fake yellow kind
Of yellow Cheese on the top...
Then you go to Straw Hat Pizza,
To get all of those artificial ingredients
That never belonged on a pizza in the first place
(But the white people really like it...)
Oh well, you'll go anyplace, you'll do anything
Oh you'll give me your underpants
I hope these aren't yours, buddy...
They're very nice, though
You'll go to Santa Monica Boulevard,
You'll go to the Blue Parrot
No problem, you'll go anyplace
You'll do anything
Just so you can hang out with the others
The others just like you
Afraid of the future
(Death Valley Days, straight ahead)
The future is scary
Yes, it sure is
Well, the puddle is rising
It smells like the ocean
A body of water to isolate England
And also Reseda
The oil, in patches
All over Atlantis, Atlantis
You remember Atlantis
Donovan, the guy with the brocade coat,
Used to sing to you about Atlantis
You loved it, you were so involved then
That was back in the days when you used to
Smoke a banana
You would scrape the stuff off the middle
You would smoke it
You even thought you was getting ripped from it
No problem
Ah Atlantis, they could really get down there
The plankton, the krill
The giant underwater pyramid, the squid decor
Excuse me. Todd
The big ol' giant underwater door
The dome, the bubbles, the blue light
Light, light, light, light
Blue light blue light
The seepage, the sewage, the rubbers, the napkins
Your ethos, your pathos
Your flag hole, your port-hole
Your language
You're frightened
Your future
You can't even speak your own fucking language
You can't read it anymore
You can't write it anymore
Your language
The future of your language
Your meat loaf
Don't let your meat loaf
Heh, Heh, Heh
Your Micro-Nanette
Your Brut
Cologne
Writer(s): Frank Zappa
Brown Shoes don't make it
Quit school, why fake it
Brown shoes don't make it
TV dinner by the pool
Watch your brother grow a beard
Got another year of school
You're okay, he's too weird
Be a plummer
He's a bummer
He's a bummer every summer
Be a loyal plastic robot
For a world that doesn't care
That's right
Smile at every ugly
Shine on your shoes and cut your hair
Be a jerk-go to work
Be a jerk-go to work
Be a jerk-go to work
Be a jerk-go to work
Do your job, and do it right
Life's a ball
TV tonight
Do you love it
Do you hate it
There it is
The way you made it
A world of secret hungers
Perverting the men who make your laws
Every desire is hidden away
In a drawer in a desk by a Naugahyde chair
On a rug where they walk and drool
Past the girls in the office
We see in the back
Of the City Hall mind
The dream of a girl about thirteen
Off with her clothes and into a bed
Where she tickles his fancy
All night long
His wile's attending an orchid show
She squealed for a week to get him to go
But back in the bed his teen-age queen
Is rocking and rolling and acting obscene
Baby, baby. ..
Baby, baby. . .
Cimmie then cakes, uh!
If I do I'm gonna lose my...
And he loves it, he loves it
It curls up his toes
She wipes his fat neck
And it lights up his nose
But he cannot be fooled
Old City Hall Fred
She's nasty, she's nasty
She digs it in bed
That's right
Do it again, ha
And do it some more
Hey, that does it, by golly
And she's nasty for sure
Nasty nasty nasty
Nasty nasty nasty
Only thirteen, and she knows how to nasty
She's a dirty young mind, corrupted
Corroded
Well she's thirteen today
And I hear she gets loaded
If she were my daughter, I'd...
What would you do, Daddy?
If she were my daughter, I'd ...
What would you do, Daddy?
If she were my daughter, I'd ...
What would you do, Daddy?
Check this out
Smother my daughter in chocolate syrup
And strap her on again, oh baby
Smother that girl in chocolate syrup
And strap her on again, oh baby
She's my teen-age baby
She turns me on
I'd like to make her do a nasty
On the White House lawn
Smother my daughter in chocolate syrup
And boogie 'till the cows come home
Time to go home
Madge is on the phone
Got to meet the Gurney's and a dozen gray attorneys
TV dinner by the pool
I'm so glad I finished school
Life is such a ball
I run the world from City Hall
Gotta stop. ...for now.
jflo69rmnp
Member For 4 Years
2M Red? Nah! You need the Blue cart at least to listen to quality vinyl!!
jflo69rmnp
Member For 4 Years
Feeling Punky Tonight
And for no other reason than I fucking made this next song my anthem the year it come out.
Alright back to punk...Well kinda!
This chick is still smoking hot today.
UncleRJ
Will write reviews for Beer!
Staff member
Senior Moderator
VU Donator
Platinum Contributor
Member For 4 Years
ECF Refugee
Reviewer
Moderator
I received an Amazon Echo Dot and a really good Bluetooth speaker for Xmas.
About an hour ago, I told it to play Renaissance music while I was working.
I really am starting to like this thing.
About an hour ago, I told it to play Renaissance music while I was working.
I really am starting to like this thing.
Yep it's like having a full time DJ on hand 24/7.Without the beer salary.
And just to prove how much of an arse I can be I'm ending with this 1 below.