Halloween 81

Thank you. Let me uh—

Okay. You look lovely tonight! Okay.

Okay. Okay. Wait, wait. I know he does. All right. As you all know, this is Halloween, the finest night of the year. And you are in the right place at the right time. Tonight's show— The first show is being videotaped and the second show goes out live via satellite, and will also be videotaped, and the whole thing—both shows and all the encores and everything—will be edited together to make one big thing later. So— So I hope that the cameras don't cause you any inconvenience. Please cooperate with them, don't give them any trouble, and we'll try and make the show go as smoothly as possible in spite of the fact that it's on TV, okay? Not— I can't sign everything all at once so I'll try—thank you—I'll try and get to it later.

Okay. These are Martian flowers? Wonderful! Well, we'll put these over here, here's a guy who would look good with 'em. Let me introduce you to everybody. This is Ray White on guitar and vocals. Tommy Mars on keyboards. Scott Thunes on bass. Chad Wackerman on drums. Ed Mann on percussion. Bobby Martin on keyboards. And our little Italian virtuoso, Steve Vai, on guitar and et cetera. You want me to spank him, is that the deal? Maybe later. He needs it!

Okay, we are now gonna play some selections for you from our new album which has been uh— Well, let's just say that the radio stations have been kind of ignoring it a little bit. That's— Oh!

All right. No, no, no. We gotta start the show now. You ready?

One, two . . .

Do you know what you are?
You are what you is
You is what you am
A cow don't make ham
You ain't what you're not
So see what you got
You are what you is
An' that's all it 'tis

A foolish young man
From a middle class fam'ly
Started singin' the blues

Wait, stop, stop! What is it? What's the deal? What was it? What? What d'you want? Oh, the feedback, you're right! Get rid of the feedback! Where is it coming from? What is that? Well it's Halloween, it's a gremlin! It's a fucking gremlin, that's all it is! You know I like it better when I can see you guys out there, you know? Hope you don't mind the lights on you. Okay. Let's do it again, right from the beginning . . .

One, two!

 

There's a ship arriving too late
To save a drowning witch
She was swimmin' along
Tryin' to keep a date
With a Merchant Marine
Who told her he was really rich
But it doesn't matter no more . . .
She's on the ocean floor
'N the water's all green down there
'N it's not very clean down there
'N water snakes
'N rusty wrecks
Is all that she can see
As the light goes dim
And she's tryin' to swim
Will she make it?
(Boy, we sure hope so . . . )

Not even a witch oughta be caught
On the bottom of America's spew-infested
Waterways, hey-hey . . .
She could get radiation all over her
She could mutate insanely . . . (that's right)
She could mutate insanely . . .
She could grow up to be 15 feet tall
And scary-lookin'
And it would be really ugly
Did you know that
Cars could crash all over the place
As a result of people with Hawaiian shirts on . . .
Lookin' up to see her face

Sardines in her eyebrows . . .
Lobsters up 'n down her forehead
All of them HORRIBLY LARGE FROM RADIATION . . .
And smelling very bad
And DANGEROUS!

Maybe a submarine could save her,
And take her home to the Navy . . .
For some kind of
Ritual sacrifice . . .

 

 

 

Oh, I knew you'd be surprised . . .

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

Oh well, you travel to bars
You might go to Max's Kansas City
But that
That's not much fun anymore
Oh, you might even go down to the Mudd Club
But all that's down there anymore
Is burglars and villains and so forth
Oh, where do you go and what do you do
When you're so lonely
(I don't wannna wear your hat right now
Thank you very much
Oh, what a lovely balloon
It's going by so nicely)
Well maybe you'll go to the library
You'll go to an art gallery
You'll go someplace where you can
Pick up a girl that you might like
But you're such an asshole
They'd never wanna go with you, do they?
They'd look at you 'n gonna, "Eeeh . . .
Who wants to be with this putz!"
Right?
You're a lonely guy
And the Gilder Grape is all burned down!
You're life is really in trouble
And all around you there's nothing but
Evangelists and Republicans! Oh, no!
You'll go anywhere
You'll do anything
Just so you can hang out with the others
The others just like you
Afraid of the future
And I don't blame ya!
Because 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 Pacoima
The oil in patches
All over Atlantis, Atlantis, Atlantis
Phew! Atlantis
They could really get down there
The plankton, the krill
The giant underwater pyramid
The squid decor
The big ol' giant underwater door
The dome, the bubbles, the blue light

Light, light, light, light, blue
Light, light, light, light, blue
Blue light blue light
The seepage, the sewage, the rubbers, the napkins
Your ethos, your Porthos,
Your flag pole, your port hole
Your language
You can't even speak your own fucking language
You can't read it anymore
You can't write it anymore
Your language
Your meat loaf
Don't let your meat loaf
Heh, heh, heh
Your Micro-Nanette
Your Brut
Cologne

From Madam Wong's to Starwood
To the Whiskey on the Strip
You can hear the crashing, blasting strum
Of bands that come to be real hip
And get a record contract
From a talent scout some day
They'll sell their ass, their cocks and balls
They'll take the check 'n walk away
If they're lucky they'll get famous
For a week or two perhaps
They'll buy some ugly clothes to wear
And hope the business don't collapse
Before some stupid magazine
Decides they're really good
They're a Tinsel Town Rebellion Band
From downtown Hollywood

Tinsel Town Rebellion,
Tinsel Town Rebellion Band
It's a little bitty Tinsel Town Rebellion
A Tinsel Town Rebellion Band

They used to play all kinds of stuff
And some of it was nice
Some of it was musical
But then they took some guy's advice
To get a record deal, he said,
They would have to be more punk
Forget their chops and play real dumb
Or else they would be sunk
So off they go to S.I.R. to learn some stupid riffs

And when they think they've got it
They launch a new career
Who gives a fuck if what they play
Is somewhat insincere

It's that feedback again
We're gonna stop and fix it

Wonderful! No. Wait? No. I don't know. What? Talk amongst yourselves. Oh . . . Hey, Bob!

Tinsel Town Rebellion,
Tinsel Town Rebellion Band
It's a little bitty Tinsel Town Rebellion,
A Tinsel Town Rebellion Band
Did you know that in Tinsel Town the people down there
Think that substance is a bore

Stop! That was rude to do, give the man his chicken!

Did you know that in Tinsel Town the people down there
Think that substance is a bore
And if your New Wave group looks good
They'll hurry on back for more
Of leather groups and plastic groups
And groups that look real queer
The Tinsel Town aficionados
Come to see and not to hear
But then again this system works
As perfect as a dream
It works for all of those record company pricks
Who come to skim the cream
From the cesspools of excitement
Where Jim Morrison once stood
It's the Tinsel Town Rebellion
From downtown Hollywood

Is everybody happy?
Why not?
It's Halloween!

FZ: Thank you!

Maybe you should stay with yo' mama
(Mama!)
She could do your laundry 'n cook for you
Maybe you should stay with yo' mama
(Mama!)
You're really kinda stupid 'n ugly too
Maybe you should stay with yo' mama
(Mama!)
She could do your laundry 'n cook for you
Maybe you should stay with yo' mama
(Mama!)
You're really kinda stupid 'n ugly too

You ain't really made for bein' out in the street
Ain't much hope for a fool like you
'Cause if you play the game, you will get beat

Maybe you should stay with yo' mama
You!
(Mama!)
She could do your laundry 'n cook for you
Yeah, you!
Maybe you should stay with yo' mama
(Mama!)
You're really kinda stupid 'n ugly too
Uh!
You should never smoke in pajamas
Yeah!
You might start a fire 'n burn yer face
Maybe you'll return to Long Island/Managua
You could go unnoticed in such a place

Maybe you should stay with yo' mama
(Mama!)
She could do your laundry 'n cook for you
Maybe you should stay with yo' mama
(Mama!)
You're really kinda stupid 'n ugly too
You should never smoke in pajamas
You might start a fire 'n burn yer face
Maybe you'll return to Managua
You could go unnoticed in such a place

You ain't really made for bein' out in the street
Ain't much hope for a fool like you
'Cause if you play the game, you will get beat

FZ: Ray White, Tommy Mars, Scott Thunes, Chad Wackerman, Ed Mann, Bobby Martin, Steve Vai. Thanks for coming to the show. Good night!

Crazed Fan: Yeah! Zappa, Zappa!
FZ: What? I'm supposed to kiss her? Okay. All right. Thank you! What? Talk to him. Got a pen? What? Just calm down there for a minute. It's only Halloween . . . Sorry. Can't do it. Here's your note again.
Crazed Fan: Play the guitar! Play the guitar!
FZ: No, thank you. All right, let's get back to entertainment here. Are we tuned up?
Crazed Fan: Yeah! We never left! We never left!
FZ: Two, three, four . . .

Hey there, people, I'm Bobby Brown
They say I'm the cutest boy in town
My car is fast, my teeth is shiney
I tell all the girls they can kiss my heinie
Here I am at a famous school
I'm dressin' sharp, I'm actin' cool
I got a cheerleader here wants to help with my paper
Let her do all the work 'n maybe later I'll rape her

Oh God, I am the American dream
I do not think I'm too extreme
An' I'm a handsome sonofabitch
Gonna get a good job 'n be real rich
(Get a good, get a good, get a good, get a good job)

Women's Liberation
Came creepin' all across the nation
I tell you people, I was not ready
When I fucked this dyke by the name of Freddie
She made a little speech then
Aw, 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 too quick

Oh God, I am the American dream
But now I smell like Vaseline
An' I'm a miserable sonofabitch
Am I a boy or a lady . . . I don't know which
(Wonder wonder, I wonder wonder)

So I went out 'n bought me a leisure suit
I jingle my change, but I'm still kinda cute
Got a job doin' radio promo
An' none of the jocks can even tell I'm a homo
Eventually me 'n a friend
Sorta drifted along into S&M
I can take about an hour on the Tower of Power
'Long as I gets a 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 because the name of this song is "City Of Tiny Lites."

Ray White, Tommy Mars, Scott Thunes, Chad Wackerman, Ms. Pinky, Ed Mann, Bobby Martin, Steve Vai. Thanks for coming to the show tonight, folks. Hope you enjoyed it. Good night. Oh, I seem to have a little itch right here.

Oh, did somebody throw something on the stage? Was that an egg? Oh, let's find the guy who did it . . . You know, every once in a while a Warner Bros. executive manages to sneak into these concerts without our knowing it. And sometimes they send their children. We're not gonna stand for it! So keep the stuff off the stage, you know what I mean? 'Cause we have a nice family show going here.

I think she should go back to her master.

Well, it's been lovely having you with us tonight, folks. Except for that asshole who threw the egg. And if he's got any more in his pocket and if he tries to throw 'em, would the people in his vicinity kindly subdue him before we send somebody up there to fix him good. This is not target practice land.

Thanks for coming to the show. Ray White, Tommy Mars, Scott Thunes, Chad Wackerman, Ed Mann, Bobby Martin, Steve Vai. Good night.

I don't know much about dancin'
That's why I got this song
One of my legs is shorter than the other
'N both my feet's too long
'Course now right along with 'em
Got no natural rhythm
But I go dancin' every night
Hopin' one day I might get it right
I'm a
Dancin' fool
(Dancin' fool)
I'm a
Dancin' fool
I'm a
Dancin' fool
(Dancin' fool)
I'm a
Dancin' fool
I hear that beat, I jump outa my seat
But I can't compete, 'cause I'm a
Dancin' fool
(Dancin' fool)
Dancin' fool

The disco folks all dressed up
Like they's fit to kill
Walk on in 'n see 'em there
Gonna give them all a thrill
When they see me comin'
They all steps aside
They has a fit while I commit
My social suicide, I'm a
Dancin' fool
(Dancin' fool)
I'm a
Dancin' fool
I'm a
Dancin' fool
(Dancin' fool)
Dancin' fool
The beat goes on
But I'm so wrong
The beat goes on
But I'm so wrong
The beat goes on but I'm so wrong
The beat goes on but I'm so wrong
The beat goes on but I'm so wrong
The beat goes on but I'm so wrong
I may be totally wrong but I'm a
Dancin' fool
I may be totally wrong but I'm a
Dancin' fool

I got it all together now
With my very own disco clothes
My shirt's half open, t'show you my chain
'N the spoon for up my nose
I am really somethin'
That's what you'd prob'ly say
So smoke your little smoke
'N drink your little drink
While I dance the night away
I'm a
Dancin' fool
(Dancin' fool)
I'm a
Dancin' fool
Dancin' fool
(Dancin' fool)
I'm a
Dancin' fool
He's a
Dancin' fool

I may be totally wrong but I'm a
I may be totally wrong but I'm a
I may be totally wrong but I'm a
I may be totally wrong but I'm a fool

Say darlin', what's a girl like you doing in a place like this?
(Ki-ni-shinai!)
Do you come here often?
Wait a minute, I've got it, you're an Italian!
(Ki-ni-shinai!)
What?
You're Jewish?
Love your nails
Hey, listen, how 'bout some bondage and humiliation?
(Ki-ni-shinai!)
A little bit of S&M on the side?
I won't bother to ask you whether is your place or mine
(Ki-ni-shinai!)
Because you'll have to come to my house
I have an apparatus you'd really enjoy
(Ki-ni-shinai!)
How would you like to spend the rest of the evening tied to the whipping post?

I been run down
Lord, 'n I been lied to
And I don't know why
I let that mean woman make me out a fool

She took all my money
'N wrecked my new car
Now she's with one of my good-time buddies,
Drinkin' in some cross-town bar

Sometimes I feel
Sometimes I feel
Like I been
Tied to the whippin' post
Tied to the whippin' post
Tied to the whippin' post
Good Lord, I feel like I'm dyin'

My friends tell me
That I been such a fool
I have to stand back an' take it, babe
All for loving you

I drown myself in sorrow
As I look at what you've done
But nothin' seems to change;
That bad times stay the same,
And I can't run

Sometimes I feel
Sometimes I feel
Like I been
Tied to the whippin' post
Tied to the whippin' post
Tied to the whippin' post
Oh, good Lord, I feel like I'm dyin'

Lord
Oh, Lord, no
Been tied down
Oh, Lord

Sometimes I feel
Sometimes I feel, yeah
Like I been
Tied to the whippin' post
Tied to the whippin' post
Tied to the whippin' post
Lord, yeah, ow-oh!
Sometimes I feel like I'm dyin'

Oh, Lord!

Wee-ee-oooh
Wee-ee-oooh

Happy Halloween everybody!

Ah, nice record.

Well, in case you didn't know, this is being broadcast live via satellite on MTV with a simulcast on Starfleet Radio! Hello, there. A historical event. That means that you and your lovely costumes in your radiant splendor are being photographed and shipped out across the airwaves to the less fortunate parts of the world.

Now, since this is a live television show, there's something I want you to do for me to make sure that everything goes smoothly—please do not throw things on the stage, do not get in the way of the cameras, and they'll try not to block the show for you. And other than that, let's get down to business. I'll introduce you to everybody. This is Ray White on guitar and vocals. Tommy Mars on keyboards. Scott Thunes on bass. Chad Wackerman on drums. Ed Mann on percussion. Bobby Martin on keyboards, sax and vocals. And our little Italian virtuoso, Steve Vai on guitar.

All right, ya ready? Okay. Watch it. Sit down. Relax.

 

Thank you! Thank you very much.

FZ: Okay, I'll tell you what's going on here right now. Since this is a simulcast, the radio— radio has to do commercials for two minutes—that's okay, I'll talk to you during the two minutes, and—but the TV stays on the air. So uh, we'll just hang out for a while and when I get the signal from somebody over there, we start singing again. No problem . . . No, it's not— not my style, thank you.

Guy From The Audience: 12. I've been eighteen as of 12—today is my birthday. Please mention something for me.

FZ: Thank you. It's a family show, don't worry about it. Okay, okay. Hey, don't push! . . . Thank you. So, how many more seconds we got? Anybody have an estimate back there? Oh, the— Oh, it's one of those, oh, you want me to sign it? . . . Oh, no no no no. I can't— I won't be able to breathe in it. Okay, we're just about back on the air. We're on the air? We are— Wonderful! Ya ready?

Cocaine decisions, cocaine decisions
Cocaine decisions, cocaine decisions
Cocaine decisions, cocaine decisions
Cocaine decisions, cocaine decisions

I don't wanna know
'Bout the things that you pull
Outta your nose
Or where they goes
But if you are wasted
From the stuff you're stickin' in it
I get madder every day
'Cause what you do 'n what you say
Affects my life in such a way
I learn to hate it every minute!

Doreen . . . don't make me wait
Til tomorrow
Oh-wo-no-oh-wo . . .
Please darling
Let me love you tonight
An' it'll be awright

You . . . can't make me say
I don't want you
Oh-wo-no-oh-wo . . .
My heart
Is burning with love
And I want you tonight

You know I-I . . . I really love you
(I really love you)
You make me feel good
(You make me feel good)
Please don't deceive me
(Oh no . . . )
Doreen you know you should
(You know you should stay)
Stay with me always
We could be lovers
(Oh!)
Doreen
(You're different)
Than all the . . . others

Doreen . . . don't make me wait
Til tomorrow
Oh-wo-no-oh-wo . . .
Please darling
Let me love you tonight
An' it'll be awright

You-ooo-woo . . . can't make me say
I don't want you
Oh-wo-no-oh-wo . . .
My heart
Is burning with love
And I want you tonight
(Yeah, you know I want you to . . .)
(Said I . . .)
Want you tonight
(Yeah, you know I want you to . . .)
(Said, Doreen, said I . . .)
Want you tonight
(Well, well, you know I want you to . . .)
(You're gonna feel no pain, girl, I . . .)
Want you tonight
(Yes, you know I want you to . . .)
(Open up your door, girl, I . . .)
Want you tonight
(Well, you know I want you to . . .)
(Gonna love you [...])
Want you tonight
(Yeah, you know I want you to . . .)
(Said, Doreen, girl, I . . .)
Want you tonight
(Yes, indeed, you know I want you to . . .)
([...], I . . .)
Want you tonight
(Yeah, you know I want you to . . .)

Thank you!

Hob-noblin
Wit de goblin
De Goblin Girl
From da mystery world

Hob-noblin
Wit de goblin
She's black 'n green
'Cause it's Halloween

Raggedy black
Is the way she dress
Little green shoes
'N her hair's a mess
On Halloween night
At de costume ball
She's a Goblin Girl
An' she can gobble it all

When she's a goblin
There ain't a problin
When she's a goblin
I start a-wobblin'
Pink all over
Some is tan
Goblin Girls
From every land
They look good
From any which-a-way
Every Halloween
You can hear me say:
"Goblin Girl, take it away . . . "

Hob-noblin
Wit de goblin
De Goblin Girl
From da mystery world
De Goblin Girl
From da mystery world
De Goblin Girl
From da mystery world
De Goblin Girl
From da mystery world

Scott: One, two, three, four . . .

Hey! I'm only fourteen
Sickly 'n thin
Tried all of my life
Just to grow me a chin
It popped out once
But my dad, he pushed it in
Tell me, why did he hurt me?
'Cause he's my next of kin
He's a mex-i-kin

I'm lonely 'n green
Too small for my shirt
If Simmons was here
I could feature my hurt
Scared of the future
'N I hope I don't grow
Nobody likes me
'Cause everywhere that I go
They say no
They say no
Don't say no
They say no
Say no

I'm older now
Got a place in the town, babe
Got a chin on my shoulder
'N it keeps growing down 'n down 'n down 'n down
I'm horny 'n lonely
'N I wish I was dead
Won't somebody kill me
Lord, I'd rather be dead instead
That's right, I said
I'd rather be dead instead
Now dig this . . .

I wanna be dead
In bed
Please kill me
'Cause that would thrill me
(Get the picture?)
I wanna be dead
In bed
Please kill me
'Cause that would thrill me
(I ain't lyin'!)
I wanna be dead
In bed
Please kill me
'Cause that would thrill me
(Punks stole my razor. I'm gonna buy me a blazer)
I wanna be dead
In bed
Please kill me
'Cause that would thrill me
(Get me a leisure suit, but I'm still kinda cute)
I wanna be dead
In bed
Please kill me
'Cause that would thrill me
(I'm so cute, I'm so cute, I'm so cute, I'm so cute)
I wanna be dead
In bed
Please kill me
'Cause that would thrill me

One more time for the world!

Lord, have mercy on the hippies and faggots
And the dykes and the weird little children they grow

Some Crazed Fan: ZAPPA!

Another Crazed Fan: [...] necrophilia, bestiality.

FZ: Hello. Thank you. A little pumpkin! How petite . . . Okay, listen, we gotta— We have to expedite matters here because we're on the air and it's time to go back to music. All right. Okay. You all tuned up? Snakes! Very nice.

FZ: Happy Halloween! Good night to our television audience!

Crowd: Zappa! Zappa! Zappa! ZAPPA! . . . "Inca Roads"!

FZ: Oh, thank you.

All right. Now. Let's get down to business here. The live show is off the air and the real show keeps going. Oh, underpants. All right . . . Okay. Look, we're still videotaping this because, you know, we're gonna make something else out of it later, so you, you still have to be on your good behavior now. No objects on the stage unless requested. I already signed one for you. We gotta go to work. Relax. All right. Yeah, okay. That's easier to do. No no no. Bye! Whoop! Up they go and down they go. No problem. All right. Mmm . . . I know someone who will enjoy this. Ah, you tuned up? Okay, here we go, an old familiar tune. One, two, three, four . . .

It wasn't very large
There was just enough room to cram the drums
In the corner over by the Dodge
It was a fifty-four
With a mashed up door
And a cheesy little amp
With a sign on the front said
"Fender Champ"
And a second-hand guitar
It was a Stratocaster with a whammy bar

We could jam in Joe's Garage
His mama was screamin'
His dad was mad
We was playin' the same old song
In the afternoon 'n sometimes we would
Play it all night long
It was all we knew, 'n easy too
So we wouldn't get it wrong
Even if you played it on a saxophone

We thought we was pretty good
We talked about keepin' the band together
'N we figured that we should
'Cause about this time we was gettin' the eye
From the girls in the neighborhood
They'd all come over 'n dance around like . . .

So we picked out a stupid name
Had some cards printed up for a coupla bucks
'N we was on our way to fame
Got matching suits
'N Beatle Boots
'N a sign on the back of the car
'N we was ready to work in a Go-Go Bar

One two three four
Let's see if you've got some more!

People seemed to like our song
They got up 'n danced 'n made a lotta noise
An' it wasn't 'fore very long
A guy from a company we can't name
Said we oughta take his pen
'N sign on the line for a real good time
But he didn't tell us when
These "good times" would be somethin'
That was really happenin'
So the band broke up
An' it looks like
We will never play again . . .

Guess you only get one chance in life
To play a song that goes like . . .

Why does it hurt when I pee?
Why does it hurt when I pee?
No no no doctor
Stick no needles in me
Why does it hurt when I pee?
Got it from the toilet seat
Got it from the toilet seat
It jumped right up
'N grabbed my meat
Got it from the toilet seat

My balls feel like a pair of maracas
My balls feel like a pair of maracas
Oh God I probably got the
Gon-o-ka-ka-khackus!
My balls feel like a pair of maracas
Ai-ee-ai-ee-ahhhh!
Why does it
Why does it
Why does it
Why does it hurt . . . when . . . I
Peeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee?

Wait a minute, I've got a good idea! What if we don't walk off the stage and come back? What if we just stay here? . . . Wonderful! The name of this song is "The Tragic True Story Of Michael Kenyon, The Illinois Enema Bandit"!

FZ:

All right! Now.

In keeping with our reality therapy program, ladies and gentlemen, we're not gonna walk off the stage right now and come back. No no no! We're gonna stay here and do another song. It takes so much time going back and forth—you know what's gonna happen. You're so sophisticated.

I just wanna say something to you right now. If you just be quiet for a minute, let me tell you something. One of the reasons why I really enjoy working in New York is because this is the only audience for what we do in the United States that knows the changes that happen every year, you know. 'Cause every year you're here and you see what we do and, you know, you stay up with it. In other parts of the country where they don't play the records and we don't tour so often, when we go there they still think that the only thing we're playing is "Don't Eat The Yellow Snow." They think that's the— the latest thing. So I appreciate the fact that you come back every year and you've helped to make the Halloween tradition at the Palladium what it is. Even more than we have. And we like you!

Okay. Now we're not gonna do the song that we had planned to do right now. I think we should do something else, something more lavish, something luxuriant, like— No, how 'bout "King Kong"?

Band Member:

Yeah!

FZ:

Let's— Let's do "King Kong." "King Kong." All right? So just watch me for the order of solos and we'll see what happens. And for you guys in the video truck, who are sitting there holding on to your vital organs saying, "Oh, what the fuck is gonna happen now?," don't worry, watch me, I'll keep you out of trouble.

We're gonna dedicate this to Butch and the Mongolians, who are over there, and all the rest of the hometown regulars, including Janet The Planet. And Jack. And who else? Is Eraserhead down there? I know they're all down there. Canarsie!

And now, this is the— This is the new improved reggae version of "King Kong."

Band Member:

Oh, you told!

FZ:

With little solos and stuff in it. Now, we only practiced this a little bit. This is like your Halloween throwaway number so, just relax, sit down, you know, go with it for a while. Ready, Mars?

One, two, three . . .

Ah, but that's not all! Once upon a time somebody accused me of being the Guy Lombardo of Halloween. Well, in commemoration of that remark we will now present to you a special heavy metal version of "Auld Lang Syne."

Old acquaintance be forgot
And never brought to mind?
Should old acquaintance be forgot
And days of auld lang syne?

For auld lang syne, my dear
For auld lang syne
We'll take a cup of kindness yet
For auld lang . . .
Auld lang . . .
Auld lang syne

FZ: All right! Good night! Happy Halloween!

 

Hello, there. Oh, it's you again! How're you doing tonight?

What's this? . . . "From Bonnie & Charlie." Oh, I'm so cute in this picture. What? . . . Thank you.

All right, let me tell you what's going on here tonight. This is— This is the last of our Halloween shows here. And, now— now that all the— Now that all the bogus seasonal hysteria is over—Hey, it's you again! . . . Okay, sure. All right. This is the last one, then we gets— get down to business . . . What? (Yup.)

Okay, thank you. All right. Happy birthday! Now listen, tonight we're gonna do a show that's different than the ones we've done. And it's— And it's going to be a long show so better relax . . . The first part of the show is going to be some songs that we rehearsed this afternoon that aren't normally part of what we've been doing on this tour. These are older songs. And, as you can see from the way "Zoot Allures" turned out, the stuff is a little shaky but what the fuck. So, let me introduce you to everybody and we'll get on with it.

This is Ray White on guitar and tonsillitis. Tommy Mars on keyboards. Scott Thunes on bass. Chad Wackerman on sprained wrist. Ed Mann on percussion. Bobby Martin on keyboards, saxophone and high vocals. And our little Italian virtuoso, Steve Vai on guitar. Wanna give a special welcome tonight to the Cuccurullo family who is here, lurking in the audience someplace . . . And also to the other denizens of Canarsie who may have accompanied them.

All right. You ready? (Okay.)

One, two, three!

I am gross and perverted
I'm obsessed 'n deranged
I have existed for years
But very little has changed
I'm the tool of the Government
And industry too
For I am destined to rule
And regulate you

I may be vile and pernicious
But you can't look away
I make you think I'm delicious
With the stuff that I say
I'm the best you can get
Have you guessed me yet?
I'm the slime oozin' out
From your TV set

You will obey me while I lead you
And eat the garbage that I feed you
Until the day that we don't need you
Don't go for help . . . no one will heed you
Your mind is totally controlled
It has been stuffed into my mold
And you will do as you are told
Until the rights to you are sold

That's right, folks . . .
Don't touch that dial

Well, I am the slime from your video
Oozin' along on your livin' room floor

I am the slime from your video
Can't stop the slime, people, lookit me go

I am the slime from your video
Oozin' along on your livin' room floor

I am the slime from your video
Can't stop the slime, people, lookit me go

I am the slime from your video
Oozin' along on your livin' room floor

I am the slime from your video
Can't stop the slime, people, lookit me go

 

FZ:

All right. Hey, listen. Before we go on to the next song I've got a really important piece of business I gotta take care of now. There's this guy that works for us—he sells the T-shirts. His name is David Ditkowich. Now some of you might know David and— and you— if you know him you realize that David is a lonely guy. He hasn't been pooched in three days. His nectar has built up so to speak and he asked me if I could help him get a girl tonight.

Now, normally I don't do this because, I mean, of course being a pimp is my hobby, but, in Ditkowich's case this is taking it above and beyond the call of duty, as they say in the trade. So here's— here's the plan, somewhere out there, I know, somewhere in this building there is a girl—or a female-type object who desires the companionship of a nice Jewish boy who sells T-shirts.

Now, I'm gonna make you a two-for-one offer, here's the deal, if you're a girl and you wanna— and you wanna submit to Ditkowich's advances, if you'll go for Ditkowich and you got a friend or a sister that would like to spend some time with Al Malkin, who is ano— who is another dangerously lonely guy— Had a little problem here the other night. I understand, now I don't like to be spreading gossip around but, this is New York. Al is a very lonely person and he came here to the show the other night with his girlfriend, he introduced me to her in the back, she was a very nice person, they went and they sat in the audience to see the show. She says, "Excuse me for a minute, I'm go ge— gonna go get a drink," she disappeared, didn't come back until 5 o'clock in the morning, told—she was drunk—said, "Al, I hate you," in an Exorcist voice. And told him to move out.

Now, we got these two very nice people who need it. Now, as a matter of fact can we get a spotlight down here just so you see what the merchandise is like. This is David Ditkowich right here. Now, obviously he is nice, he is Jewish and he is a boy, right? So, you see what you're in for if you want— if you wanna do it with David just come down and introduce yourself there— All right! See? What did I tell you? Congratulations! What's your name?

Karen:

Karen!

FZ:

Karen? I now pronounce you David and Karen. Off that way.

All right! Now that's what I like about New York. You get results.

Now where's Malkin? If we can so the same thing for Malkin we'll really be doing it. Where is he? Maybe we'll find him later. Okay. What? Where? Al, come 'ere.

Ha ha . . . Ladies and gentlemen, this is my friend Al Malkin. He's also a very nice person. Would you like to give a sales pitch yourself?

Al Malkin:

Well, I'll tell ya, I don't know if there's anybody really cute, you know, and I stay away from, you know, young girls, anybody about eighteen or close, you know? Blond hair . . .

FZ:

He wants a virgin with nice breath.

Al Malkin:

Yeah, a virgin would be nice but . . .

FZ:

Right there. You?

Al Malkin:

No mustache.

FZ:

A volunteer right there? Where? No no. Oh, she's going, "No! No! Don't touch me! No! Get Away! No!" Oh, listen! Right. Right here! . . . What's your name?

Lisa:

Lisa.

FZ:

Lisa, this is Al.

Lisa:

It's happening to me!

Al Malkin:

It's happening.

FZ:

It's happening to you.

Al Malkin:

She has no idea what's gonna be happening to her!

FZ:

Well, who does anymore! It's the Twentieth Century!

Lisa:

This girl loves you. Chris. Tell her to come over here.

FZ:

Tell her to come over here? Come 'ere! . . . What's your name?

Chris:

Chris.

FZ:

Well, let the audience see you, come on!

Now, isn't this better than computer dating? Why don't you guys get over there and get acquainted?

Okay, on with the show!

The Mystery Man came over
An' he said, "I'm outa-site!"
He said, for a nominal service charge
I could reach nervonna t'nite
If I was ready, willing 'n able
To pay him his regular fee
He would drop all the rest of his pressing affairs
And devote His Attention to me
But I said . . .

Look here brother
Who you jivin' with that Cosmik Debris?
(Now who you jivin' with that Cosmik Debris?)
Look here brother
Don't you waste your time on me

The Mystery Man got nervous
An' he fidget around a bit
He reached in the pocket of his Mystery Robe
An' he whipped out a shaving kit
Now, I thought it was a razor
An' a can of foamin' goo
But he told me right then when the top popped open
There was nothin' his box won't do
With the oil of Afro-dytee
An' the dust of the Grand Wazoo
He said, "You might not believe this, little fella
But it'll cure your Asthma too!"
An' I said . . .

Look here brother
Who you jivin' with that Cosmik Debris?
(Now what kind of a geroo are you anyway?)
Look here brother
Don't you waste your time on me
(Don't waste yer time . . . )

I've got troubles of my own, I said
An' you can't help me out
So take your meditations an' your preparations
An' cram it up yer snout
"BUT I GOT A KRISTL BOL!," he said
An' held it on up to the light
So I snatched it
All away from him
An' I showed him how to do it right

I wrapped a newspaper 'round my head
So I'd look like I was Deep
I said some Mumbo Jumbos then
I told him he was goin' to sleep
I robbed his rings
An' his pocket watch
An' everything else I found
I had that sucker hypnotized
He couldn't even make a sound
I proceeded to tell him his future then
As long as he was hanging around, I said
"The price of meat has just gone up
An' yer ol' lady has just gone down"

Look here brother
Who you jivin' with that Cosmik Debris?
(Now is that a real poncho or is that a Sears poncho?)
Don't you know
You could make more money as a butcher
So don't you waste your time on me
(Don't waste it, don't waste your time on me)
(Ohm shonty, ohm shonty, ohm shonty-ohm)

I might be movin' to Montana soon
Just to raise me up a crop of
Dental Floss

Raisin' it up
Waxen it down
In a little white box
I can sell uptown

By myself I wouldn't
Have no boss
'Cause I'd be raisin' my lonely
Dental Floss

Raisin' my lonely
Dental Floss
(Yes it is!)
Raisin' my lonely
Dental Floss

Well I just might grow me some bees
But I'd leave the sweet stuff
To somebody else
Ah but then, on the other hand I would

Keep the wax
'N melt it down
Pluck the Floss
'N swish it aroun'

And I would have me a crop
An' it'd be on top
That's why I'm movin' to Montana

Movin' to Montana soon
Gonna be a Dental Floss tycoon (that's right)
Movin' to Montana soon
Gonna be a mennil-toss flykune
(I wonder what that means)

I'm gonna find me a horse
Just about this big
An' ride that sucker all along the border line

With a
Pair of heavy-duty
Zircon-encrusted tweezers in my hand
Every other wrangler would say
I was mighty grand

But by myself I wouldn't
Have no boss
'Cause I'd be raisin' my lonely
Dental Floss

Raisin' my lonely
Dental Floss
(That's right!)
Raisin' my lonely
Dental Floss

Well I might
Ride along the border
With my tweezers gleamin'
In the moon-lighty night

And then I would
Get a cuppa cawfee
'N give my foot a push
Just me 'n the pygmy pony
Over by the Dennil Floss Bush

'N then I might just
Jump back on
An' ride
Like a cowboy
Into the dawn to Montana

Movin' to Montana soon
(Yippy-Yay-O-Ty-Ay)
Movin' to Montana soon
(Yippy-Yay-O-Ty-Ay)
Movin' to Montana soon
(Yippy-Yay-O-Ty-Ay)
Movin' to Montana soon
(Yippy-Yay-O-Ty-Ay)

This girl is easy meat
I seen her on the street
See-through blouse an' a tiny little dress
Her manner indiscreet
I knew she was
Easy, easy, easy meat
Easy, easy, easy meat
Easy, easy
Easy, easy
Easy meat
Easy meat
Easy meat
Easy meat

She wanna take me home
Make me sweat and moan
Rub my head and beat me off
With a copy of Rollin' Stone
I knew she was
Easy, easy, easy meat
Easy, easy, easy meat
Easy, easy
Easy, easy
Easy meat
Easy meat
Easy meat
Easy meat

I told her I was late
I had another date
I can't get off on the Rollin' Stone
But the robots think it's great
I knew she was
Easy, easy, easy meat
Easy, easy, easy meat
Easy, easy
Easy, easy
Easy meat
Easy meat
Easy meat
Easy meat

Easy
(She's so easy)
Easy
(I saw her tiny titties
Through her see-through blouse
Just had to take the girl to my house)
Easy . . .

Ay ay ay ay ay!

Whoever we are
Wherever we're from
We shoulda noticed by now
Our behavior is dumb
And if our chances
Expect to improve
Gonna take a lot more
Than tryin' to remove
The other race
Or the other whatever
From the face
Of the planet altogether

They call it THE EARTH
Which is a dumb kinda name
But they named it right
'Cause we behave the same . . .
We are dumb all over
Dumb all over,
Yes we are
Dumb all over,
Near 'n far
Dumb all over,
Black 'n white
People, we is not wrapped tight

Nurds on the left
Nurds on the right
Religious fanatics
On the air every night
Sayin' the Bible
Tells the story
'N makes the details
Sound real gory
'Bout what to do
If the geeks over there
Don't believe in the book
You got over here

You can't run a race
Without no feet
'N pretty soon
There won't be no street
For dummies to jog on
Or doggies to dog on
Religious fanatics
Can make it be all gone
(It won't blow up
'N disappear
It'll just look ugly
For a thousand years . . . )

You can't run a country
By a book of religion
Not by a heap
Or a lump or a smidgeon
Of foolish rules
Of ancient date
Designed to make
You all feel great
While you fold, spindle
And mutilate
Those unbelievers
From a neighboring state

TWO ARMS? TWO ARMS?
Have another and another
Our God says:
"There ain't no other!"
Our God says
"It's all okay!"
Our God says
"This is the way!"

It says in the book:
"Burn 'n destroy . . .
Repent, 'n redeem
'N revenge, 'n deploy
'N rumble thee forth
To the land of the unbelieving scum on the other side
'Cause they don't go for what's in the book
'N that makes 'em BAD
So verily we must choppeth them up
And stompeth them down
Or rent a nice French bomb
To poof them out of existence
While leaving their real estate just where we need it
To use again
For temples in which to praise
OUR GOD
("Cause he can really go Hawaiian!")

And when his humble TV servant
With a brown suit
Nice white hair
And maybe a blonde headed wife who takes phone calls
Tells us it's okay to do this stuff
Then we gotta do it,
'Cause if we don't do it,
We ain't gwine up to hebbin!
Hey listen, we can't really be dumb
If we're just following God's Orders
After all he wrote this book here
An' in the book it says:
"He made us all to be just like Him," so . . .
If we're dumb . . .
Then God is dumb . . .
(An' maybe even a little ugly on the side)

DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE

And if these words you do not heed
Your pocketbook just kinda might recede
When some man comes along and claims a godly need
He'll clean you out right through your tweed

That's right, remember there is a big difference between kneeling down and bending over . . .

He's got twenty million dollars
In his Heavenly Bank Account . . .
All from those chumps who was
Born again
Oh yeah, oh yeah

He's got seven limousines
And a private plane . . .
All for the use of his
Special Friends
Oh yeah, oh yeah

He's got thousand-dollar suits
And a Wembley Tie . . .
Girls love to stroke it
While he's on the phone
Oh yeah, oh yeah

At the House of Representatives
He's a groovy guy . . .
When he Gives Thanks
He is not alone . . .

He is dealin'
He is really dealin'
IRS can't determine
Where The Hook is

It is easy with the Bible
To pretend that
You're in Show Biz
(And a-one, and a-two, and a . . . )

They won't get him
They will never get him
For the naughty stuff
That he did

It is best in cases like this
To pretend that
You are stupid
(DUH . . . )

He's got Presidential Help
All along the way
He says the grace
While the lawyers chew
Oh yeah
They sure do

And the Governors agree to say:
"He's a lovely man!"
He makes it easier for
Them to screw
All of you . . .
Yes, that's true!

'Cause he helps put The Fear of God
In the Common Man
Snatchin' up money
Everywhere he can
Oh yeah
Oh yeah

He's got twenty million dollars
In his Heavenly Bank Account
You ain't got nothin', people
(TAX THE CHURCHES)
You ain't got nothin', people
(TAX THE BUSINESSES
OWNED BY THE CHURCHES)
You ain't got nothin', people
Thank the man . . . oh yeah

That's right
You ain't got nothin'
And they got it all
And your miserable ass
Is up against the wall
The only thing you have not tried
It's the sport of chumps
And that's SUICIDE

You say there ain't no use in livin'
It's all a waste of time
'N you wanna throw your life away, well
People that's just fine
Go ahead on 'n get it over with then
Find you a bridge 'n take a jump
Just make sure you do it right the first time
'Cause nothin's worse than a Suicide Chump

You say there ain't no light a-shinin'
Through the bushes up ahead
'N we're all gonna be so sorry
When we find out you are dead
Go head on 'n get it over with then
Find you a bridge 'n take a jump
Just make sure you do it right the first time
'Cause nothin's worse than a Suicide Chump

Maybe you're scared of jumpin'
'N poison makes you sick
But you want a little attention
'N you need it pretty quick
Don't wanna mess your face up
Or we won't know if it's you
Aw, there's just so much to worry about
Now what you gonna do?
Go ahead on 'n get it over with then
Find you a bridge 'n take a jump
Just make sure you do it right the first time
'Cause nothin's worse than a Suicide Chump

Chump it one time!

Now maybe you're scared of jumpin'
'N poison makes you sick
But you want a little attention
'N you need it pretty quick
Don't wanna mess your face up
Or we won't know if it's you
Aw, there's just so much to worry about
Now what you gonna do?

Go head on 'n get it over with then
Go head on 'n get it over with then
Go head on 'n get it over with then
Go head on 'n get it over with then
Go head on 'n get it over with then
Go head on 'n get it over with then
Go head on 'n get it over with then

You're on the bridge;
Scared to leap,
But a girl walks over
To take a peep . . .
She says: "DON'T DO IT!"
But wouldn't you know . . .
The girl's got a head
Like a buffalo
With a little red hair
All over the top
An' her breath would make the
Traffic stop
She says "I LOVE YOU . . .
BUT FIRST, LET'S EAT!"
And all you can say as you run down the street is . . .

Jumbo, go away
Jumbo, go away
Jumbo, go away
Jumbo leave me alone
Get your head off my bone
I wanna go home
(I'm hungry . . . )

Jumbo lighten up
Jumbo lighten up
Jumbo lighten up
Jumbo give me a break
Lighten up on my snake
That's all I can take
(Feed me!)

It seems I can't explain
The way I feel about you
(Robbie, take me to Greek Town!)
You just don't understand
You're from Kalamazoo . . .
(Blow!)

You got to realize
Our little romance deal
Will not materialize
Into a thing that you'd call REAL
(I think I have worms . . . )

Jumbo gotta go
Jumbo gotta go
Jumbo gotta go
Jumbo better get back
Or your eye will get black
When I give you a smack
(No, Denny, don't hit me!)

Jumbo don't you cry
Jumbo don't you cry
Jumbo don't you cry
Jumbo this is good-bye
I ain't gonna lie
So wash up your pie

Wash up your pie
(There are three things that smell like fish!)
(Oh, really, oh, what are they?)
Wash up your pie
(One of them is fish . . . )
(Oh, that's all right, but what are the other two?)
Wash up your pie
(The other two . . . )
(What d'you mean the other two?)
Wash up your pie
(Are growing on you . . . )
(No, they're not!)

 

There's a ship arriving too late
To save a drowning witch
She was swimmin' along
Tryin' to keep a date
With a Merchant Marine
Who told her he was really rich
But it doesn't matter no more . . .
She's on the ocean floor
'N the water's all green down there
'N it's not very clean down there
'N water snakes
'N rusty wrecks
Is all that she can see
As the light goes dim
And she's tryin' to swim
Will she make it?
(Boy, we sure hope so . . . )

Not even a witch oughta be caught
On the bottom of America's spew-infested
Waterways, hey-hey . . .
She could get radiation all over her
She could mutate insanely . . . (that's right)
She could mutate insanely . . .
She could grow up to be 15 feet tall
And scary-lookin'
Did you know that
Cars could crash all over the place
As a result of people with Hawaiian shirts on . . .
Lookin' up to see her face

Sardines in her eyebrows . . .
Lobsters up 'n down her forehead
All of them HORRIBLY LARGE FROM RADIATION . . .
And smelling very bad
I don't know . . .

Maybe a submarine could save her,
And take her home to the Navy . . .
For some kind of
Ritual sacrifice . . .

 

 

Turn turn
Turn turn
We're turning again
Turn turn
Turn turn
We're turning again

We're so young and happy
And we know where it's at
(It's over there, over there,
Over there, over there
And under here also)
We're never wrong about nothing
And we look good
We never ever have to worry
We're always in a hurry
To convince ourselves that what we are
Is really very groovy
If we believe what's in the papers
And the magazines that define our folklore
We can never laugh
At who or what we think we are
Or even what we think
We sorta oughta be
We are totally empty
(Totally empty)
And our lives are really useless
So what the fuck?
We ain't got no sense of humor
We got nothing left
To laugh about
Including ourselves

Turn turn
Turn turn
We're turning again
Turn turn
Turn turn
We're turning again

(Mellow yellow
Mellow yellow)

They were mellow
They were yellow
They were wearing smelly blankets
They were DONOVAN fans
(HU-UR-DE-EE
GU-UR-DE-EE)
They walked around
With stupid flowers
In their hair and everywhere
They tried to stuff 'em in the guns
Of all the cops and other servants of the law
Who tried to push 'em around
And later mowed 'em down
But they were full of all that shit
That they believed in
So what the fuck?
(WHAT THE FUCK?)
They would tighten up their headbands
On the weekend they get loaded
When they came to town
They walked around in GREENWICH VILLAGE
To buy posters they could hang up
In their smelly little secret
Black light bedrooms
On LONG-ISLAND
Screamin': "JIMI COME BACK!"
Come back and regulate my fuzz-tone
Your HAZE was so PURPLE
And your AXIS was BOLD AS LOVE
JIMI FEED BACK
Come back and feed back on my knapsack
You can feed back the fuzz tone from your WAH-WAH
While you bend down
And set your stuff on FIRE

Turn turn
Turn turn
We're turning again
Turn turn
Turn turn
We're turning again

We can turn it around
We can do it again
We can go back in time
Through the canyons of your mind
On the EVE O' DESTRUCTION
We can act like we are something really special
We'll just get in the bath-tub
With that other guy JIM
And make him be more careful
We'll visit Big Mama
And whap her on the back
When she eats her sandwich
(LA LA LA LA)
We can take care of Janis
When she gets so depressed
She can't take it no more
We can laugh at Keith Moon's jokes
(HA HA HA HA HA)
And the colour TV
(HA HA)
He threw out de window
From de second floor!
(OHHHHHH!)
Everybody come back
No one can do it like you used to
If you listen to the radio
And what they play today
You can tell right away:
All those assholes really need you!

Turn turn
Turn turn
We're turning again
Turn turn
Turn turn
We're turning again

Turn turn
Turn turn
We're turning again
Turn turn
Turn turn
We're turning again

 

She's only seventeen
She's really kind of cute
She's working in the street
She's a teen-age prostitute

She ran away from home
Her mom was destitute
Her daddy didn't care
She's a teen-age prostitute

She has got a pimp
He treats her like a dog
All the stuff she's shooting
Keeps her in a fog
Baby she would like to try and slip away
But if she gets caught he will cause her some dismay

Tiny little pants
Chain around the boot
Shakin' in the dark
She's a teen-age prostitute

 

His name is Stevie Vai,
And he's a crazy guy
Last November, I recall,
He needed a spanking

He decided then
A female specimen
Would be exciting for a night
To give him a spanking

Laurel was her name
She came to Notre Dame
He told me just the other day
He oughta be thanking
Her for the spanking

She was large and soft
And she beat him off
Made him drool upon his dork
And gave it a wanking
After the spanking

Hair brush!
Oh! What a hair brush!
(It's not that he requires grooming!
Guys with light blue hair never do!)

Then she did exclaim:
"There's another game
That we can play with this device,
And then a banana!"

It was slightly green
Vapors in between
Rising up to fill the room
And cook the banana

She said it was dry
"Stevie won't you try
To drool a little drool on it
And grease the banana"

Later in the dawn,
Laurel carried on
She got right up and dressed herself and
Ate the banana

Chop a line now . . .

Cocaine decisions . . .
You are a person with a snow job
You got a fancy gotta-go job
Where the cocaine decisions that you make today
Will mean that millions somewhere else
Will do it your way

Cocaine decisions . . .
You are a person who is high class
You are a person not in my class
And the cocaine decision that you make today
Will mean nothing later on
When you get nose decay

I don't wanna know
'Bout the things that you pull
Outta your nose
Or where they goes
But if you are wasted
From the stuff you're stickin' in it
I get madder every day
'Cause what you do 'n what you say
Affects my life in such a way
I learn to hate it every minute!

Cocaine decisions, cocaine decisions
Cocaine decisions, cocaine decisions
Cocaine decisions, cocaine decisions
Cocaine decisions, cocaine decisions

I don't wanna know
'Bout the things that you pull
Outta your nose
Or where they goes
But if you are wasted
From the stuff you're stickin' in it
I get madder every day
'Cause what you do 'n what you say
Affects my life in such a way
I learn to hate it every minute!

Cocaine decisions . . .
You are a doctor or a lawyer
You got an office with a foyer
And the cocaine decision that you make today
Will not be discovered till it's over 'n done
By the customers you hold at bay

Cocaine decisions . . .
You are a movie business guy
You got accountants who supply
The necessary figures
To determine when you fly
To Acapulco
Where all your friends go

Cocaine decisions . . .
We must watch the stuff you make
You have let us eat the cake
(Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you)
While your accountants tell you Yes Yes Yes
You make EXPENSIVE UGLINESS
(How do you do it?—Let me guess . . . )
Cocaine decisions . . .
Cocaine decisions . . .
Cocaine decisions . . .
Cocaine decisions . . .
Cocaine decisions . . .
Cocaine decisions . . .
Cocaine decisions . . .
Cocaine decisions . . .

I signed on the line
For seven long years
They said I'd be a big star
They said I'd get a big car
All the coke I could toot
All the dope I could shoot
All the smoke I could smoke
But now I'm beat up 'n broke

They said I oughta re-record
"The Tracks Of My Tears"
They said, "Hey! This is it!
It's gonna be a big hit"
With my name up in lights
And some custom-made tights
All the girls call my name
But it was all just a game

Nigger Biznis
Nigger Biznis
Well, Nigger Biznis all the time
Don't you know, Nigger Biznis has brought destruction
On top of this here heart of mine

Well, one day that contract will expire
One day I will be free
From that Nig (oh!)
Nig (oh!)
Nigger Biznis office
Nigger Biznis office
Representing me
Nigger Biznis
Nigger Biznis
Nigger Biznis all along
Don't you know, Nigger Biznis has brought disaster
Which is why you're hearin' this song

Thank you! . . . Sing along!

Hob-noblin
Wit de goblin
De Goblin Girl
From da mystery world

Hob-noblin
Wit de goblin
She's black 'n green
'Cause it's Halloween

Raggedy black
Is the way she dress
Little green shoes
'N her hair's a mess
On Halloween night
At de costume ball
She's a Goblin Girl
An' she can gobble it all

She's a goblin
A Goblin Girl
She's a goblin
A Goblin Girl
I been hobblin'
'Cause of the Goblin
Goblin Girl . . . Goblin Girl

Some girls like
To dress like a witch
Some girls like to dress like a queen
Best way a girl
Can dress for me
Is in a Goblin Suit
(They look so cute . . . )

When she's a goblin
There ain't a problin
When she's a goblin
I start a-wobblin'
Pink all over
Some is tan
Goblin Girls
From every land
They look good
From any which-a-way
Every Halloween
You can hear me say:
"Goblin Girl, take it away . . . "

Hob-noblin
Wit de goblin
De Goblin Girl
From da mystery world
De Goblin Girl
From da mystery world
De Goblin Girl
From da mystery world
De Goblin Girl
From da mystery world

Ray White, Tommy Mars, Scott Thunes, Chad Wackerman, Ed Mann, Bobby Martin, Steve Vai. Thanks for coming to the show. Hope you enjoyed it. Good night!

Thank you.

I been run down
Lord, 'n I been lied to
And I don't know why
I let that mean woman make me out a fool

She took all my money
'N wrecked my new car
Now she's with one of my good-time buddies,
Drinkin' in some cross-town bar

Sometimes I feel
Sometimes I feel
Like I been
Tied to the whippin' post
Tied to the whippin' post
Tied to the whippin' post
Good Lord, I feel like I'm dyin'

My friends tell me
That I been such a fool
I have to stand back an' take it, babe
All for loving you

I drown myself in sorrow
As I look at what you've done
But nothin' seems to change;
That bad times stay the same,
And I can't run

Sometimes I feel
Sometimes I feel
Like I been
Tied to the whippin' post
Tied to the whippin' post
Tied to the whippin' post
Oh, good Lord, I feel like I'm dyin'

Lord
Lord, no
Yeah
Been tied down

Sometimes I feel
Sometimes I feel
Like I been
Tied to the whippin' post
Tied to the whippin' post
Tied to the whippin' post
Lawd-no-oooh!
Oh Lord Lord
Sometimes I fell like I'm dyin'

Nancy's pants, ladies and gentlemen. Let's have a big hand for Nancy's pants. Oh, just a moment. Here, a big nose for Nancy's pants. Now here's a man who knows good merchandise when he sees it . . . Can I keep this? Great, I'll wear it to court.

Here's a song that has proved to be very popular in this area throughout the years, during our Halloween tradition. Ready?

Hey! Do you know what you are?
You're an asshole!
A what? An ASSHOLE! You're right!

Some of you might not agree
'Cause you probably likes a lot of misery
But think a while and you will see . . .
Broken hearts are for assholes
Broken hearts are for assholes
And you're an asshole
Broken hearts are for assholes
And you're an asshole too
That's right!
Whatcha gonna do, 'cause you're an asshole . . .

No no no, yeah yeah yeah
I said
You . . . are . . . an ASSHOLE!

Maybe you think you're a lonely guy
'N maybe you think you're too tough to cry
So you went to The Grape,
Just to give it a try
And Dagmar
Was his name . . .
The whiskers sticking out from underneath of his Pancake make-up
Nearly drove you insane
And so you kissed a little sailor
Who had just blew in from Spain
You pulled the chain attached to the permanently-erected nipples of Jimmy
In a bold salute to pain
You sniffed the reeking buns of Angel
And acted like it was cocaine
You were dazzled by the exciting new costume of Ko-Ko
In a way you can't explain
And so you worked the wall with Michael
Which gave your back an awful strain
But you came back on Sunday for the gong shows
But you forgot what I was sayin'
'Cause you're an asshole, you're an asshole
That's right
You're an asshole, you're an asshole
Yes, yes
You're an asshole, you're an asshole
That's right
You're an asshole, you're an asshole

Well, you been to The Grape, and been to The Chest
Now I think you know what you are: you're an asshole
A what? An ASSHOLE!

You say you can't live with what you've been through
Ladies you can be an asshole too
You might pretend you ain't got one on the bottom of you
But don't fool yerself girl
It's winkin' at you
Don't fool yerself girl
It's blinkin' at you
Don't fool yerself girl
It's wankin' at you
That's why I say
I'm gonna ram it, ram it, ram it
Ram it up yer poop chute
(Corn hole)
Ram it, ram it, ram it
Ram it up yer poop chute
(Fist fuck)
Ram it, ram it, ram it
Ram it up yer poop chute
(Wrist-watch: Crisco)
Ram it, ram it, ram it
Ram it up yer poop chute
Don't fool yerself, girl,
It's goin' right up yer poop chute
Don't fool yerself, girl,
It's goin' right up yer poop chute
Don't fool yerself, girl,
It's goin' right up yer poop chute
(Ay ay ay ay)
Don't fool yerself, girl,
It's goin' right up yer poop chute
(Ay ay ay ay)
Don't fool yerself, girl,
It's goin' right up yer poooop chute
(Ay ay ay ay ay ay ay ay)
Don't fool yerself, girl,
It's goin' right up yer . . .

Oh, I knew you'd be surprised!

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
The torture
The torture
The torture never stops

Slime 'n rot 'n 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
A sinister little midget with a bucket an' a mop
A sinister tiny little midget with a bucket an' a mop
(Hey, de boss, da plane!)

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
(Come on down!)
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 dungeon right near there
He eats the trout 'n the snotters first
The loins 'n the groins are soon dispersed
His carvin' style is well rehearsed
He stands and he shouts
All men be cursed
All men be cursed
All men be cursed
And disagree, well, no-one durst, you know why?
He's the best of course of all the worst
(He's the best of course of all the worst)
Some wrong been done, he done it first
(Some wrong been done, he done it first)

An' he stinks so bad, his bones been chokin'
'N weepin' greenish drops
In the night of the iron sausage
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 these people
That he's locked away down there
Are they crazy?
Are they sainted?
Are they zeros someone painted?
Well, it's never been explained
Since at first it was created
But a dungeon just like a sin
Requires naught but lockin' in
Of everything that's ever been
Look at her
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

See you next year!