Over-Nite Sensation 50th Anniversary Super Deluxe Edition

Did a vehicle
Come from somewhere out there
Just to land in the Andes?
Was it round
And did it have a motor
Or was it something different

Did a vehicle
Did a vehicle
Did a vehicle
Fly along the mountains
And find a place to park itself
Or did someone build a place
Or leave a space
For such a thing
To land

Did a vehicle
Come from somewhere out there
Did a vehicle
Come from somewhere out there
Did the Indians, first on the bill
Carve up the hill

Kerry McNabb?: Rolling on 2.

FZ: One, two, three . . .

Kerry McNabb?: That's it.

She had that Camarillo brillo
Flamin' out along her head
I mean her Mendocino bean-o
By where some bugs had made it red

She ruled the Toads of the Short Forest
And every newt in Idaho
And every cricket who had chorused
By the bush in Buffalo

She said she was a Magic Mama
And she could throw a mean Tarot
And carried on without a comma
That she was someone I should know

She had a snake for a pet
And an amulet
And she was breeding a dwarf
But she wasn't done yet
She had gray-green skin
A doll with a pin
I told her she was awright
But I couldn't come in

And so she wandered through the door-way
Just like a shadow from the tomb
She said her stereo was four-way
An' I'd just love it in her room

Well, I was born to have adventure
So I just followed up the steps
Right past her fuming incense stencher
To where she hung her castanets

She stripped away her rancid poncho
An' laid out naked on the door
We did it till we were un-concho
An' it was useless any more

She had a snake for a pet
And an amulet
And she was breeding a dwarf
But she wasn't done yet
She had gray-green skin
A doll with a pin
I told her she was awright
But I couldn't come in

And so she wandered through the door-way
Just like a shadow from the tomb
She said her stereo was four-way
An' I'd just love it in her room

Well, I was born to have adventure
So I just followed up the steps
Right past her fuming incense stencher
To where she hung her castanets

She said she was a Magic Mama
And she could throw a mean Tarot
And carried on without a comma
That she was someone I should know

One, two, three, four . . .

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 am 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

FZ: Oops! One, two, three . . . No, no, give me time right from the front. One, two, three . . .

I am gross and perverted
I'm obsessed 'n deranged
I've 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?
Well, 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

FZ: Goddamit! [...].

. . . consolation
And I don't want your reservation
I only got one destination
An' that's your dirty love
An' that's your dirty love

Give me
Your dirty love
Just like your mama
Make her fuzzy poodle do

Give me
Your dirty love
The way your mama
Make that nasty poodle chew

I don't need no consolation
And I don't want your reservation
I only got one destination
An' that's your dirty love
An' that's your dirty love
An' that's your dirty love
An' that's your dirty love
Give me your dirty love
Give me your dirty love
Give me your dirty love, give me your
Dirty love
Give me your dirty love
Give me your dirty love
Give me your dirty love
Just give me your dirty love
Just give me your dirty love
Just give me your dirty love
Just give me your dirty love
Just give me that dirty love
Dirty love

FZ: All right. How much tape we got?

FZ: A little faster . . . That push— That push beat, keep it a little even . . . No. Keep it even, sounds clumsy at that speed . . .

Give me
Your dirty love
Like you might surrender
To some dragon in your dreams

FZ: One . . .

FZ: One, two, three, four . . .

?: Do we play first and second time?
FZ: What?
?: We play first time and second time too this time, huh?
FZ: No, Jean-Luc plays it the first time, and then you come in on the second—

FZ: One, two, three . . .

That's for you!
Wallace, what are you doing up in the attic?
Wallace, what are you doing up in the attic?
It's for you!

She was buns-up kneelin'
I was wheelin' an' dealin'
She surrender to the feelin'
An' she started in to squealin'

Dinah-Moe . . .
. . . edge of the bed
. . . twitchin'
An' her face gone red
. . . rollin' down
From the edge of her chin
While she spied the condition
That her sister was in

She quivered 'n quaked
An' clutched at herself
While her sister made a joke
About her mental health
Till Dinah-Moe finally
Did give in
But I told her
All she needed
Was some discipline

I got a spot that gets me hot
But you ain't been to it
(No no no no!)
I got a spot that gets me hot
But you ain't been to it
(No no no!)
Got a spot that gets me hot
But you ain't been to it
(No no no no no!)
Got a spot that gets me hot
But you ain't been to it

'Cause I can't get into it
Unless I get out of it
An' I gotta get out of it
Before I get into it
'Cause I never get into it
Unless I get out of it
An' I gotta be out of it
To get myself into it

Kiss my boot
Put away those Virginia Slims and kiss my boot again
And don't forget the buckle

You know I think that a girl such as yourself could develop a taste for
Leather

Raisin' my lonely
Dental Floss
Raisin' my lonely
Dental Floss

Movin' to Montana soon
Gonna be a Dental Floss tycoon (yes I am)
Movin' to Montana soon
Gonna be a Dental Floss tycoon

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
That I can sell uptown

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

Raisin' my lonely
Dental Floss
Raisin' my lonely
Dental Floss

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

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

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

I'm gonna find me a horse
Just about this big
An' ride him 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

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

Raisin' my lonely
Dental Floss
Raisin' my lonely
Dental Floss

I might
Ride along the border
With my tweezers gleamin'
In the moon-lighty night
(Ooh! A little tweezer glint!)

And then I'd
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 . . .

FZ: Ladies and gentlemen, for your dining and dancing pleasure, Mr. George Duke . . .

FZ: Thank you. Thank you. Thank you very much. The name of that song was "Dupree's Paradise." Okay . . .

FZ: The next thing we're gonna do for you is uh—well, sort of like a blues. Sort of. And uh, it's a song about the new thriving guru industry deflicting the United States right now. Just a minute . . .
Audience Member: Let's hear something dirty!
FZ: The name of this song is—let me, let's hear something dirty. How about "Eat It!"? The name of this song is "Cosmik Debris." One, two, three, four . . .

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

I've got troubles of my own, I said
An' you can't help me out
So take your meditations an' your preparations
An' ram it up yer snout
"But I've got a Kristl Bol," he said
An' held it 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
An' I told him he was goin' to sleep
I robbed his rings
An' 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 went up
An' yer ol' lady has just went down"

Look here brother
(Look here brother!)
Who you jivin' with that Cosmik Debris?
(What kind of a geroo are you anyway?)
Go tell that jive in San Francisco
But don't you waste your time on me
(Don't waste it, don't waste your time on me)

FZ: Thank you! Thank you.

FZ:

All right. I'd like to say that, you know it's, it's interesting, if you live, if you live in Los Angeles and you're in a rock 'n roll band and you play in Los Angeles when you're in a rock 'n roll band it's, it's different than being in a rock 'n roll band from someplace else playing in Los Angeles. You know, when we play here, when we play here it's just like uh, playing for your neighbors or something, and there's always plenty of people . . . Wait a minute, folks! And there's always plenty of people who are sort of friends of the band who are making it to the concert and so forth. And in this instance, we have some friends of the band who have made it to the concert. I'd like to bring one of them out right now if we can find him. His name is Sal Marquez and he plays the trumpet. Is Sal back there?

Okay. Ladies and gentlemen, the dynamic Sal Marquez! . . . What? Barry, Sal is going to uh, play the trumpet on, on this here microphone. I think we're gonna play "Big Swifty" for you. Try and do it. Try and do an exquisite version.

By the way, ladies and gentlemen, in case you didn't know, this is Big Swifty, here he is . . .

One, two, one, two, three, four . . .

FZ: Sal Marquez.

FZ:

All right. We have another new song for you. Now this—listen carefully—this song, this song is a riddle. This song is a riddle and it answers itself right in the middle. Okay? ("The Curse Of The Zomboids") The name of this song is "The Curse Of The Zomboids."

This just might be the successor to "Willie The Pimp."

All right, here we go. One . . .

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 am the best you can get
Have you guessed me yet?
Well, 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, hey!

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

Rick Lancelotti:

[...]

Came here to play
You know, I, I am a new generation
Smokin' baby
They call me
Ooooooh
Smog Sucker
Yeah, what's they called me, y'all
They call me Smog, Smog Sucker
Back in '71 just one of the many
Midnight runners I been around

I been around and had my fun
One of the men that did not run
I thought I could escape on a roller-skate
But look like I never meet my fate
Shuffling on from mate to mate
And in between wondering what I am
Keep on going on I bump into a gate
Seems like I'm heading for an eight
Aaaaaaah
Smog!
Oooooooh
Smog!
Smog Sucker!
It's all right
What do you mean, you my sister
Just lay it down
Long as you're out
I can be anybody
I got a swimming pool full of beer
I got a . . .

FZ: Hello! Hello! Hello! Sure is a lot of people here tonight. That's good. Okay, I'll tell you, before we get started I'd like to introduce all the members of the group and make sure their equipment is all working so we don't have to have any delays in the show. Steve, there's no vocal in this monitor here, so you can pump it up a little bit. Hello, hello. Ah, audible. Wonderful. Do Sal's.

Steve: Thank. Testing Johnny to Sal. Johnny.

FZ: Ha ha.

Steve: All right.

FZ: All right. Down here on the end, if we can get a spotlight on him, is Mr. Jean-Luc Ponty on the violin . . . Really loud! Really loud!

Steve: Yeah?

FZ: Yeah. And standing next to him is Bruce Fowler on trombone . . . And Ian Underwood on woodwinds . . .

Steve: A little more level from Bruce.

FZ: And this is Sal Marquez on trumpet . . . Okay. Back in the corner, with the enormous tits and the little jerkin, is Ruth Underwood on vibes, marimba, little bongos, timpani and bass drum . . . Play the vibes . . . Keep playing the vibes! . . .

Audience Member: "Wowie Zowie"!

FZ: Okay. Marimba . . .

Another Audience Member: "Trouble Every Day"!

FZ: More marimba . . .

Another Audience Member: "Trouble Every Day"!

FZ: Okay. Bongos . . . Timpani . . . Bass drum . . . And the rest of our percussion section consists of Mr. Ralph Humphrey. Why don't you go through the set, Ralph? . . .

Steve: All right.

FZ: Okay. Tom Fowler on bass . . . George Duke on multiple keyboards . . .

Steve: [...].

FZ: And the grand piano . . .

Steve: Organ . . . Right.

FZ: No, it's a big thing. How do you get [...]?

Another Audience Member: "Trouble Every Day"!

Audience Member: "Wowie Zowie"!

Another Audience Member: "Trouble Every Day"!

FZ: Okay. Now I'm gonna see if this sucker's working . . .

Steve: No, not getting any signal.

FZ: Not receiving from here? Better check it out. Give me an E, George . . .

Audience Member: Happy Mother's Day!

FZ: Happy Mother's Day to you too . . . I'd like to thank those people that sent me the card, the Mother's Day card. Thank you very much.

Steve: Not getting— Right there . . . [...] very high.

FZ: Gonna check the rest of my noise makers here . . .

Steve: Got it!

FZ: Is that better, Steve?

Steve: Yeah.

FZ: Okay . . . Okay, I think we're ready to begin. We're gonna start off with some stuff from the Uncle Meat album. First piece we're going to play—Where's that feedback coming from?—The first piece we're going to play is called "Exercise #4" and that goes into "Dog Breath" and then "The Dog Breath Variations" and then "Uncle Meat" itself. Ready? . . . One, two, three, four . . .

FZ: Thank you. Ladies and gentlemen, at this time it gives me great pleasure . . .

Sal?: Yes . . .

FZ: To present to you a song about the airfields used by the Peruvian air force 40,000 years ago, featuring the mystic lips of Sal Marquez. The name of this song is "Inca Roads."

Sal:
Smile . . .

Did a vehicle
Come from somewhere out there
Just to land in the Andes?
Was it round
And did it have a motor
Or was it something different

Did a vehicle
Did a vehicle
Did a vehicle
Fly along the mountains
And find a place to park itself
Or did someone build a place
To leave a space
For such a thing
To land

Did a vehicle
Come from somewhere out there
Did a vehicle
Come from somewhere out there
Did the Indians, first on the bill
Carve up the hill

FZ: Thank you. Thank you very much.

FZ: Okay. Now we have an extravaganza for you that deals with uh—It's in three big parts. The first big part is a song called "Don't Eat The Yellow Snow," which is dealing with the sensitive subject of baby seal mutilation in the Arctic. And then it goes into a religious item called "St. Alfonzo's Pancake Breakfast," which deals with the uses of margarine. And then it goes into an instrumental event called "Farther Oblivion," which contains as its main features a violin solo, a tango, a trombone solo, a drum solo, and an angelic out-chorus. Okay? This is the uh, "Don't Eat The Yellow Snow Medley."

George: [...]

FZ: Okay, you want to make sure that George's vocal mike is on?

George: Hey.

FZ: Hey.

George: Hey.

FZ: George is happening. All right, here we go. One, two, three, four . . .

No, no, don't eat it
No, no, don't eat it
No, no, don't eat it
No, no, don't eat it

Dreamed I was an Eskimo
Frozen wind began to blow
Under my boots 'n around my toe
Frost had bit the ground below
It was a hundred degrees below zero
My momma cried
Nanook, no no
Save your money, don't go to the show

I turned around an' I said, Ho ho
And she got perturbed, but she looked at me and she said . . .

Watch out where the huskies go
An' don't you eat that yellow snow
Watch out where the huskies go
An' don't you eat that yellow snow

Well right about that time, people
A fur trapper
Who was strictly commercial
(Strictly Commershil)
Jumped up from behind my igyaloo
(Peek-a-boo)
And had the audacity to start whippin' on [Brado's] fav'rite baby seal
With a lead-filled snow shoe . . .

With a lead
(Lead)
Filled
(Lead-filled)
Snow shoe
(Snow shoe)
Peak-a-boo
(Peak-a-boo)

With a lead
(Lead)
Filled
(Lead-filled)
Snow shoe
(Snow shoe)
Peak-a-boo
(Peak-a-boo
Peak-a-boo
Peak-a-boo)
Oh, with a snow shoe

And that got me just about as evil
As an Eskimo can be

Whereupon I proceeded to gather up
A generous mitten full of the deadly
(Yellow Snow)
The deadly Yellow Snow from right there where the huskies go

And then I proceeded to
And then I
I proceeded to
I pounced
And I pounced again
And I pounced one more time
And I jumped up 'n down on the . . .

I took the deadly Yellow Snow
And I started rubbing it all into his beady little eyes
With a vigorous circular motion like this . . .

Until the extract of the Northern dog
Until the extract of the Northern dog
Produced in him a terrible case of
Temporary snow blindness

I can't see
(I can't see temporarily)
I can't see
(I . . . I can't see temporarily)
What if there's something good on TV
(I . . . I can't see temporarily)
Oh, Lord, why did this had to happen to me
(I . . . I can't see temporarily)

He took a dog-doo sno-cone
An' stuck it in my right eye
(I can't see temporarily)
An' he took a dog-doo sno-cone
An' stuffed it in my other eye
(I can't see temporarily)
I never dreamed that en Eskimo
Could jump bad on me
(I can't see)
And goddamn it now I can't see
(Temporarily)

Well, this left the evil fur trapper in a terrible predicament
There he was, temporarily snow-blinded
By the waste product of a Northern dog
Combined with a few little ice crystals
And he's trying to figure out what he's gonna do about his defliction
So he sticks his hand up inside of his little parka
And he scratches his head like people do when they're thinking
And suddenly it comes to him in a burst of illuminated
High level energy direct from Detroit, ladies and gentlemen
He remembers a legend that he had heard in his childhood
About a mysterious individual
Who is lurking somewhere near the Columbia River delta
A man of the cloth
With legendary powers
His name was Father Vivian O'Blivion
DUNT-DUN-DUN
And so the evil fur trapper
Injurer of baby seals
Penitent though
You know it bummed him out when he got it in his eye
He decided he's gonna make it down there
To Saint Alfonzo's parish
Right down there the Columbia River delta
Saint Alfonzo, the patron saint of the smelt fishermen of Portuguese extraction
And so he starts trudgin' across the tundra
He's a tundra-trudgin' motherfucker
Let's everybody trudge across the tundra one time
You see, it was his theory
That if he made it down to Saint Alfonzo's just in time for the big annual Pancake Breakfast
That a liberal portion of the special margarine that they use on the pancakes there
If he rubbed that on his eyes they would get back to normal
'Cause he'd seen that commercial on TV where the hat goes on your head
You know, with the "Good morning, your highness"
Well, that's where it comes from down there

FZ: Moderately now . . .

At Saint Alfonzo's Pancake Breakfast
Where I stole the mar-juh-rene
An' widdled on the Bingo Cards in lieu of the latrine
I saw a handsome parish lady
Make her entrance like a queen
Why she was totally chenille
And her old man was a Marine
As she abused a sausage hoagie
And said why don't you treat me mean?
(Hurt me)
Hurt me!
(Hurt me)
Hurt me!
(Hurt me, oooooh!)
At Saint Alfonzo's Pancake Breakfast
(Good God!)
(Get on the bus!)
Where I stole the mar-juh-rene

Saint Alfonzo
Saint Alfonzo
Saint Alfonzo
Saint Alfonzo

Father Vivian O'Blivion
Resplendent in his frock
Was whipping up the batter
For the pancakes of his flock
He was looking rather bleary
(He forgot to watch the clock)
'Cause the night before
Behind the door
A leprechaun had stroked his smock . . .
Set him off in such a frenzy
He sang Lock Around The Crock
An' he topped it off with a . . .
An' he topped it off with a . . .
An' he topped it off with a . . .
Woo woo woo
Woo woo woo
Woo woo woo
As he stumbled on his cock
He was delighted as it stiffened
And it ripped right through his sock
Oh, Saint Alfonzo would be proud of me
(Proud of me)
He shouted down the block

(Arriba, arriba!)

Dominus Vo-bisque 'em
Et come spear a tu-tu, Oh!
Won't you eat my sleazy pancakes
Just for Saintly Alfonzo

They're so light 'n fluffy-white
We'll raise a fortune by tonite
They're so light 'n fluffy-white
We'll raise a fortune by tonite

They're so light 'n fluffy-brown
They're the finest in the town
They're so light 'n fluffy-brown
They're the finest in the town

Good morning, your Highness
Ooo-ooo-ooo
I brought you your snow shoes
Ooo-ooo-ooo

Good morning, your Highness
Ooo-ooo-ooo
I brought you your snow shoes

FZ: Very fast now, very fast.

At Saint Alfonzo's Pancake Breakfast
Where I stole the mar-juh-rene
An' widdled on the Bingo Cards in lieu of the latrine
I saw a handsome parish lady
Make her entrance like a queen
Why she was totally chenille
And her old man was a Marine
As she abused a sausage hoagie
And said why don't you treat me mean?
(Hurt me, hurt me, hurt me, oooooh!)
At Saint Alfonzo's Pancake Breakfast
(Ha!)
(Good God!)
(Ants in my pants!)

Where I stole
Where I stole
And liberated
A little mar-juh-rene to rub on my eye
After trudging across the tundra
You know I wouldn't lie
I reached into the pantry
Stuck my hand in there and I pulled out the 'M'
Which stands for the majesty of the mar-juh-rene itself
And the 'A'
Which stands for acromegaly that you might get if the mar-juh-rene was wasted
And the 'R' which stands for . . .
Remus
And then a hyphen
Which could be used as a dildo for an ant
If you were down there close enough to push it in and out like that
And then there's a 'J'
The 'J' of the mar-juh-rene
The 'J' of—see, what I could . . .
(For Dunt)
Ah . . . 'J' . . .
Jive, of course
The 'J' is for the jive of the mar-juh-rene
Then the 'U'
Is for the unguentine which the mar-juh-rene would taste like if you left it out too long on the table
And then the 'H'
Is for happiness which is what everybody should be contagious with
And then another hyphen
Which you could use as a toothpick
For a pygmy pony
And then an 'R' again
Which stands for rancid
Which usually happens to butter but doesn't happen to mar-juh-rene
And then 'E' to the 14th power to make it sound that it was over-extended
And then another 'N' which is a number
And then another 'E' which is silent and you don't give it a word
Ladies and gentlemen, mar-juh-rene . . .

Ooh, I stole the mar-juh-rene
Ooh, I stole the mar-juh-rene
Ooh, I stole the mar-juh-rene
Ooh, I stole the mar-juh-rene

I stole the mar-juh-rene
I admit it, I did it
I stole the mar-juh-rene
I admit it, I did it
Because I
Trudged across the tundra to get my eyes fixed up
All the way down to the Columbia River delta
I came in the Saint Alfonzo's parish
With one thing in mind
And that was to see the legendary Father Vivian O'Blivion
And you know I did
I caught him

Father Vivian O'Blivion
Resplendent in his frock
Was whipping up the batter
For the pancakes of his flock
He was looking rather bleary
'Cause he forgot to watch the clock
The night before
Behind the door
A leprechaun had
Stroked his smock . . .
And that set him off in such a frenzy
He sang Lock Around The Crock
An' then he topped it off with a woo woo woo
He topped it off with a woo woo woo
He topped it off with a woo woo woo
As he stumbled on his cock
He was delighted when it stiffened
And it ripped right through his sock
Oh, Saint Alfonzo would be proud of me
He shouted down the block

Now as soon as he did that
A bunch of people gathered around him right out there in the street
Came up to him and he knew he was being watched
So he whipped out a special gesture that he picked up in Divinity School
He turned to them all and he went like this, and he says
In a pseudo-Irish accent
He says
(Bring the band on down behind me, boys, this is very sensitive)
He says . . .

Join the march and eat my starch!

FZ: We're gonna dwindle into another song right now that deals with the uh, subject of the, of the religious industry in the United States. The name of this song is "Cosmik Debris." One, two . . .

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

I've got troubles of my own, I said
An' you can't help me out
So take your meditations an' your preparations
An' ram it up yer snout
"But I've got a Kristl Bol," he said
An' held it 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
An' told him he was goin' to sleep
I robbed his rings
An' 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 went down"

Look here brother
Who you jivin' with that Cosmik Debris?
(Now who you jivin' with that Cosmik Debris?)
Go sell that stuff in San Francisco
But don't you waste your time on me

FZ: We'd like to thank you very much for coming to the concert tonight. Jean-Luc Ponty on violin, Bruce Fowler on trombone, Ian Underwood on sax, Sal Marquez on trumpet, Ruth Underwood on percussion, Tom Fowler on bass, Ralph Humphrey on drums, George Duke on keyboards. Thank you very much. Hope you liked it. Good night!

Audience: More! More! More! More! . . . You promised a drum solo.

FZ: Hey, Steve, are you receiving the guitar out there direct or do I have to leave it turned up on stage?
Steve: Leave it up. Leave it up.
FZ: Oh, that's horrible. Can't you get a microphone on it or something?

FZ: Thank you very much. I think we're going to play some old stuff for you now. We'd like to play . . .

Steve: Leave it direct. Leave it direct, Jay. I'll figure out a way of getting that.

FZ: Okay. We're going to play, um, "King Kong" and "Chunga's Revenge."

FZ: Thank you very much, good night.