Frank Zappa

A Nun Suit Painted On Some Old Boxes

Why don't you strap on this here bunch
Of cardboard boxes, daddy-o?
Joy of my desiring
You'll certainly look suave and get me hot
Hot, hot, get me hot and
If there's one thing I really get off on
It's a nun suit painted on some old boxes
Some old melodies
An aura
An areola
Pink gums
Stumpy gray teeth
Dental floss
Gets me hot
Wanna watch a dental hygiene movie

Daddy,Daddy, Daddy

Ooo-ooo, do you like my new car?
Ooo-ooo, do you like my new car?

She's such a dignified lady
She's so pretty and soft
You can't call her a groupie
It just pisses her off
She got diamonds and jewelry
She got lotsa new clothes
She ain't hurtin' nobody
So that everyone knows
That she knows what she wants

Knows what she likes
Daddy, daddy, daddy . . . oooh!
Daddy, daddy, daddy . . . oooh!
Daddy, daddy, daddy
Look out . . . she's got her eyes on you

She left her place after midnight
(La la la la la)
She drove to the club
(La la la la-ee-ah!)
You know that her and her partner
(La la la la la)
Came here lookin' for love
(La la la la-ee-ah!)
They want a guy from a group
(La la la la la)
Who's got a thing in a charts
(La la la la-ee-ah!)
They will give him their hearts

'Cause they know what they want
([...] they know about it)
And they know what they like
Daddy, daddy, daddy . . . oooh!
Daddy, daddy, daddy . . . oooh!
Daddy, daddy, daddy
Look out . . . they got their eyes on you


They know what they want
They know what they like
Daddy, daddy, daddy . . . oooh!
Daddy, daddy, daddy . . . oooh!
Daddy, daddy, daddy
Awright, you got 'em screamin' all night
(La la la la la)
Screamin' all night

Ooo-ooo, do you like my new car?
(Do it, do it, d'ya wanna-wanna do it, do it?)
It's a hip thing!
Ooo-ooo, do you like my new car?
(Do it, do it, d'ya wanna-wanna do it, do it?)
Ooo-ooo, do you like my new car?
(Do it, do it, d'ya wanna-wanna do it, do it?)
It's a Chevy!
Ooo-ooo, do you like my new car?
(Do it, do it, d'ya wanna-wanna do it, do it?)
You're a big gun!
Ooo-ooo, do you like my new car?
(Do it, do it, d'ya wanna-wanna do it, do it?)
['Cause they're dancin'!]
Ooo-ooo . . .

Lonesome Cowboy Burt

My name is Burtram
I am a redneck
All my friends,
They call me 'Burt'
(Hi, Burt!)
All my family,
From down in Texas
Make their livin'
Diggin' dirt

Come out here to Californy,
Just to find me
Some pretty girls
Ones I seen
Gets me so horny

Tuna Fish Promenade

This town
This town
Is a Sealed Tuna Sandwich
Sealed Tuna Sandwich
With the wrapper glued
It's by baloney on the rack
It goes for 40 cents a whack
It's just a place for us to play
To help us pay
The cost of the tickets back to L.A.
The cost of the tickets back to L.A.
The cost of the tickets back to L.A.

All the people in the Sandwich Town
Think the place is great
What if part of it's crumbling down?
Most of them prob'ly won't be 'round . . .

They'll either be dead
Or moved to San Francisco
(Where everybody thinks they're Heavy Business . . .
But it's just a Tuna Sandwich from another catering service . . .)

America Drinks Goes Home

I tried to find
How my heart
Could be so blind, dear
How could I be fooled
Just like the rest
You came on strong
With your fast car
And your class ring
Soft voice and your sad eyes
I fell for the whole thing
I don't regret
Having met
Up with a girl who
Breaks hearts like they were
Nothing at all
I've done it too
Now I know
Just what it feels like
And just like I said
There's no regrets

. . . Well, it's about time to close . . .
I hope you've had as much fun as we have. Don't forget the jam session Sunday . . .
MANDY TENSION will be by, playing his xylophone troupe.
It's really been a lot of fun.
Monday night is the dance contest night: THE TWIST CONTEST . . .
we're gonna give away peanut butter & jelly & baloney samwiches for all of ya.
IT REALLY HAS BEEN FUN. I hope we've played your requests . . .
the songs you like to hear . . .
LAST CALL FOR ALCOHOL! Drink it up, folks. Wonnerful.
Nice to see you, Bob . . . how's it goin'? How's the kids?
Wonnerful. Nice to see ya. Yes. BILL BAILEY? Oh . . .
we'll get to that tomorrow night. Yeah.
CARAVAN (with a drum sola)? Right. Yeah . . . we'll do that. Wonnerful.
Nice to see you again. Yeah.

Nite all.

Plastic People

Ladies & Gentelmen . . . the PRESIDENT of the UNITED STATES!

Fella Americans . . .
DOOT, DOOT, DOOT . . . DOOT . . .
He's been sick.
(Teet-Teet . . . Teet-Teet . . . Teet-Teet . . . Teet-Teet-Teet)
And I think his wife is gonna bring him some chicken soup.
DOOT, DOOT (Teet-Teet)

Plastic people
Oh baby, now . . .
You're such a drag

(I know it's hard to defend an unpopular policy every once in a while . . . )

Plastic people
Oh baby, now
You're such a drag

(And there's this guy from the CIA and he's creeping around Laurel Canyon . . . )

A fine little girl
She waits for me
She's as plastic
As she can be
She paints her face
With plastic goo
And wrecks her hair
With some shampoo

Plastic people
Oh baby, now
You're such a drag

(I dunno . . . sometimes I just get tired of ya, honey . . . it's - Ah - your hair spray . . . or something.)

Plastic people
Oh baby!
You're such a drag

(I hear the sound of marching feet . . . down Sunset Blvd. to Crescent Heights, and there, at Pandora's Box, we are confronted with . . . a vast quantity of PLASTIC PEOPLE.)

Take a day
And walk around
Watch the nazis
Run your town
Then go home
And check yourself
You think we're singing
'Bout someone else . . . but you're

Plastic people!
Oh baby, now . . .
You're such a drag

Ooo-Ooo-Ooo Ooo-Ooo-Ooo Ooo-Ooo-Ooo Ooooooooh!

Me see a neon
Moon above
I searched for years
I found no love
I'm sure that love
Will never be
A product of
A product of
A product of

A prune is a vegetable . . . no, a prune is not a vegetable. Cabbage is a vegetable . . . makes it O.K. PLASTIC PEOPLE . . . PLASTIC PEOPLE, PLASTIC PEOPLE!
Ooo-Hoo-Hoo . . . Ooo-ooh-ooh-ooh Hoo-Hoo
Ooh-ooh Ooh-Hoo-Hoo-Hoo

You are. Your foot. Your hair. Your nose. Your arms. You eat. Youc suck. You love. You are. Your being is . . . you're PLASTIC . . . PEOPLE . . . BLAH, BLAH, BLAH, BLAH . . . plastic pepples . . . [...]
You drive. You live in. You dream about . . . you think only of . . . you eat . . . you are . . . pepples . . . plastic . . . plastic pepples . . .
Purple prancing. Plastic people. Every pepples . . .

Peep-peep Pee-pee-pee-pee-pee-pee-pee-pee-peep!

Uncle Bernie’s Farm

I'm dreaming . . . (Oh no-o-o!)

There's a bomb to blow yo mommy up
A bomb for your daddy too (ouch.)
A baby doll that burps & pees
A case of airplane glue
A hungry plastic troll
To scarf yo buddy's arm
A box of ugly plastic things marked:
Uncle Bernie's Farm!

There's a little plastic congress
There's a nation you can buy (I'll take two.)
There's a doll that looks like mommy
She'll do anything but cry (I seen her.)
There's a doll that looks like daddy
He's a funny little man
Push a button & ask for money
There's a dollar in his hand (check his wallet.)

We gotta send Santa Claus back to the Rescue Mission
Christmas don't make it no more
Don't you know that murder & destruction
Scream the toys in every store (think this'll sell in New York?)

There's a man who runs the country
There's a man who tried to think
And they're all made out of plastic
When they melt they start to stink
There's a book with smiling children
Nearly dead with Christmas joys!
And smiling in his office
Is the creep who makes the toys . . .

FZ: We got this car: when it hits the wall you see the guy dying . . . got the little plastic puddles of blood . . . by the car
Ray: He has intestines . . . he has plastic intestines you can
stuff back into his stomach . . .
FZ: There's this other thing, I've got bombs. I've got rockets, I've got a . . . I've got a stilson wrench & plastic brass knuckles . . .
Ray: And it comes with a tape recorder with sound effects . . .
FZ: We got a '39 Chevy . . .

The Jimmy Carl Black Philosophy Lesson

FZ: At this very moment Jimmy Carl Black the Indian of the group is approaching the stage. Jimmy Carl, who likes to drink and also likes to boogie all night long and who is also horny, approaches Underwood in his transformed state at the piano and asks him this all important question:

JCB: Hey I thought we were gonna play a Rock & Roll concert. What is this?
Ian: Jimmy Carl Black, Indian of the group: four-fours.
JCB: How are you gonna get laid if you dont play rock & roll and drink beer? You get laid after the concert if you play rock & roll, this kind of crap you're not gonna, you're not gonna get laid anyway with that uniform on. I'll tell you what I'm gonna do. I'm gonna quit I'm gonna go out and hustle me some chick, the hell with you.
Ian: Jimmy, you need some discipline.
JCB: I'm leaving the group.
Ensemble: Boo! Boo!

FZ: Jimmy Carl, I must inform you, I must inform you, Jimmy Carl, for your own good, that here in London you're not gonna get any pussy unless you look like a popstar. Fix him up! . . . Mod Jacket . . .
(JCB: Oh Jeezus . . . )
FZ: Frilly Mod Neckpiece, Jimi Hendrix wig, and a Feather Boa.


FZ: Jimmy Carl Black enters the audience to hustle some young ladies. Go on Jim, see if you can get any action, and if you get lucky fix us up too. And if you're really lucky, get something for the robots . . . Mmmm, their little mechanical things are going up and down, up and down . . .

King Kong

Bidet! Bidet! Bidet!...
Blow-job! Blow-job! Blow-job!...
Jambon...jambon... ... Thank you
Oh thank you, you're really too kind
Thank you, thank you so much
Thank you, thank you


Help out, ladies and gentlemen


I bet: oui, oui

And now for the next part of our program,
I'd like to present, ah...Blow-job!
Blow-job! Bidet! Jambon!...

I want a garden!
I want a garden!
I want a garden!

I want a nun!
I want a nun!
I want a burrow in the broad daylight

I want a garden!
I want a nun!
I want a garden!
Just like the garden that that asshole came up here on the stage
And sang about, three years ago...
He came up out of the audience,
He said: "I want a garden!
I want a garden!
I wanna water it with my tears..."
And then Denny Walley said: "Oh, you want kindergarten!"


copyright © László Zoltán 2010