Frank Zappa Album

Terry Bozzio (drums, background vocals)
Davey Moire (vocals)
Andre Lewis (organ, vocals)
Roy Estrada (bass, vocals)
Dave Parlato (bass)
Napoleon Murphy Brock (saxophone, vocals)
Ruth Underwood (synthesizer, marimba)
Donnie Vliet (harmonica)
Louanne Neil (harp)
Ruben Ladron De Guevara (background vocals)
Sharkie Barker (background vocals)

(Instrumental)

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 practice all their poses
In between their powder sniffs

Chop a line now, snort it up now

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

Tinsel Town Rebellion,
Tinsel Town Rebellion Band
A 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
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

It's everybody happy?
Oh, never mind!
No problem

Well I'm about to get upset/sick
From watchin' my TV
Been checkin' out the news
Until my eyeballs fail to see
I mean to say that every day
Is just another rotten mess
And when it's gonna change, my friend
Is anybody's guess

So I'm watchin' and I'm waitin'
Hopin' for the best
Even think I'll go to prayin'
Every time I hear 'em sayin'
That there's no way to delay
That trouble comin' every day
No way to delay
That trouble comin' every day

Wednesday I watched the riot . . .
Seen the cops out on the street
Watched 'em throwin' rocks and stuff
And chokin' in the heat
Listened to reports
About the whisky passin' 'round
Seen the smoke and fire
And the market burnin' down
Watched while everybody
On his street would take a turn
To stomp and smash and bash and crash
And slash and bust and burn

And I'm watchin' and I'm waitin'
Hopin' for the best
Even think I'll go to prayin'
Every time I hear 'em sayin'
That there's no way to delay
That trouble comin' every day
No way to delay
That trouble comin' every day

Well, you can cool it,
You can heat it . . .
'Cause, baby, I don't need it . . .
Take your TV tube and eat it
'N all that phony stuff on sports
'N all the unconfirmed reports
You know I watched that rotten box
Until my head begin to hurt
From checkin' out the way
The newsman say they get the dirt
Before the guys on channel so-and-so

And further they assert
That any show they'll interrupt
To bring you news if it comes up
They say that if the place blows up
They will be the first to tell,
Because the boys they got downtown
Are workin' hard and doin' swell,
And if anybody gets the news
Before it hits the street,
They say that no one blabs it faster
Their coverage can't be beat

And if another woman driver
Gets machine-gunned from her seat
They'll send some joker with a brownie
And you'll see it all complete

So I'm watchin' and I'm waitin'
Hopin' for the best
Even think I'll go to prayin'
Every time I hear 'em sayin'
That there's no way to delay
That trouble comin' every day
No way to delay
That trouble comin' every day

Hey, you know something people?
I'm not black
But there's a whole lots a times
I wish I could say I'm not white

Well, I seen the fires burnin'
And the local people turnin'
On the merchants and the shops
Who used to sell their brooms and mops
And every other household item
Watched the mob just turn and bite 'em
And they say it served 'em right
Because a few of them are white,
And it's the same across the nation
Black and white discrimination
Yellin' "You can't understand me!"
'N all that other jazz they hand me
In the papers and TV and
All that mass stupidity
That seems to grow more every day
Each time you hear some nitwit say
He wants to go and do you in
Because the color of your skin
Just don't appeal to him
(No matter if it's black or white)
Because he's out for blood tonight

You know we gotta sit around at home
And watch this thing begin
But I bet there won't be many left
To see it really end
'Cause the fire in the street
Ain't like the fire in the heart
And in the eyes of all these people
Don't you know that this could start
On any street in any town
In any state if any clown
Decides that now's the time to fight
For some ideal he thinks is right
And if a million more agree
There ain't no Great Society
As it applies to you and me
Our country isn't free
And the law refuses to see
If all that you can ever be
Is just a lousy janitor
Unless your uncle owns a store
You know that five in every four
Just won't amount to nothin' more
Gonna watch the rats go across the floor
And make up songs about being poor

Blow your harmonica, son!

Thank you.
Brian, I could use a little bit more monitor.
Hello hello, can't you turn up any more than that?
Hello hello, hey!
Alright!
Pardon me folks.

The name of this song is Penguin in Bondage,
An' it's a song that ah, deals with the possible variations on
a basic theme which is...well,
You understand what a basic theme is.
And then the variations include ah, manoeuvres that might be
executed with the aid of ah, extra-terrestrial gratification
and devices which might or might not be supplied in a local
department store or perhaps a drugstore but at very least in
one of those fancy new shops that they advertise in the
back-pages of the free press.
This song suggests to the suggestible listener that the
ordinary procedure ah,
That I am circumlocuting at this present time in order to get
this text on television,
Is that ah, if you wanna do something other than what you
thought you were gonna do when you first took your clothes off
and you just happened to have some DEVICES around...
Then it's, it's not only okay to get into the
PARAPHERNALIA of it all but...Hey!
What did he say? Ready?

She's just like a penguin in Bondage, boy
Oh yeah, Oh yeah, Oh...
Rennenhenninnahenninnenninahennn
Way over on the wet side
Of the bed (Knirps for moisture)

Just like the mighty Penguin
Flappin' her eight ounce wings

Lord, you know it's all over
If she comes atcha on the strut & wrap `em
all around yer head

Flappin her eight ounce wings, flappinumm

She's just like a Penguin in Bondage, boy

Shake up the pale-dry
Ginger ale
Tremblin' like a Penguin
When the battery fail

Lord, you must be havin' her jumpin' through
a hoopa real fire
With some Kleenex wrapped around a
coat-hang wire

She's just like a Penguin in Bondage, boy
Oh yeah, Oh yeah, Oh...
Rennenhenninnahenninneninahenn
Howlin' over to some
Antarcticulated moon

In the frostbite nite
With her flaps gone white
Shriekin' as she spot the hoop across the room

Lord, you know it must be a Penguin bound down
When you hear that terrible screamin' and
there ain't no other
Birds around

She's just like a Penguin in Bondage, boy
Oh yeah, Oh yeah, Oh...
She's just like a Penguin in Bondage, boy
Oh yeah, Oh yeah, Oh...
Rennenhenninnahenninneninahennn
Aw, you must be careful
Not to leave her straps
TOO LOOSE

`Cause she just might box yer dog
She just might box yer doggie
An' leave you a dried-up dog biscuit...

Frank Zappa (guitar, lead vocals)
Ray White (rhythm guitar, vocals)
Ike Willis (rhythm guitar, vocals)
Bobby Martin (keyboards, saxophone, vocals)
Alan Zavod (keyboards)
Scott Thunes (bass)
Chad Wackerman (drums)

I used to have a job
An' I was doin' fairly well
Depression came along
An' everybody start to yell
"Where'd they go, them good ol' days,
An' all that crap we used to sell?"
Now I'm in Hot-Plate Heaven,
at the Green Hotel

Republicans is fine,
If you're a multi-millionaire
Democrats is fair,
If all you own is what you wear
Neither of 'em's REALLY right,
'Cause neither of 'em CARE
'Bout that Hot-Plate Heaven,
'Cause they ain't been there

They really oughta go
'N find out how the hall-way smell --
They'd benefit to know
'Bout what the bums in there could tell
(I guess we're only dreamin',
But I s'pose it's just as well
That's ALL you get to dream
Up in the Green Hotel)

Nature didn't put me here,
An' neither did my fate --
It musta been some evil ol'
Republican candidate!
He's over there in Washington,
But I wish he was in HELL
'Cause I'm in Hot-Plate Heaven
At the Green Hotel
Things is slightly better now;
They hope we will forget
The misery of 'TRICKLE DOWN',
An' jelly-bean etiquette
The Regal Presidential Style
Has simply not worn well,
But neither has my rags,
Up in the Green Hotel

I said the Green Hotel
I mean the Green Hotel
Been there once
The Green Hotel
We're goin' again
The Green Hotel
Neither has my rags,
Up in the Green Hotel
Hey, pass me the dog-food!

Frank Zappa (guitar, lead vocals)
Ray White (rhythm guitar, vocals)
Steve Vai(stunt guitar)
Bobby Martin (keyboards, saxophone, vocals)
Tommy Mars(keyboards, vocals)
Scott Thunes (bass)
Ed Mann(percussion)
Chad Wackerman (drums)

Hey! What's new in Baltimore?
Rockin' Robin.
Hey! What's new in Baltimore?
Hot Rod's Lips.
Hey! What's new in Baltimore?
What's new in Baltimore?

Hey! What's new in Baltimore?
I don't know!
Hey! What's new in Baltimore?
Better go back and find out.
What's new in Baltimore?
What's new in Baltimore?
What's new in Baltimore?

Frank Zappa (guitar, lead vocals)
Ray White (rhythm guitar, vocals)
Ike Willis (rhythm guitar, vocals)
Bobby Martin (keyboards, saxophone, vocals)
Alan Zavod (keyboards)
Scott Thunes (bass)
Chad Wackerman (drums)

Hey, this is for all the Republicans in the audience!

Cock-sucker Tammy get your mother fuckin' dammy
We're goin' downtown to the Cock-Suckers' Ball
Fuck, suck an' fight
'Till beginnin' of the broad daylight
We don't need no
Goddam taxi here
We're gonna trim them holes in a
Rockin'-chair
Take off all the rags
We're gonna play a little game
Called tag
Tomorrow night at the Rock Cock-Suckers' Ball

Come on you moe-ass singers and you
Mick dick slingers
We're goin' downtown to the Cock-Suckers' Ball
Fuck, suck an' fight
'Till beginnin' of the broad daylight
We don't need no
Goddam taxi here
We're gonna trim them holes in a
Rockin'-chair
Take off all the rags
We're gonna play a little game
Called tag
Tomorrow night at the Rock Cock-Suckers' Ball
Yeah yeah yeah yeah
Tomorrow night at the Rock Cock-Suckers' Ball!

Thank you, you're too kind!

Frank Zappa (vocals, guitar)
Lowell George (rhythm guitar, vocals)
Roy Estrada (bass, vocals)
Bunk Gardner (woodwinds)
Ian Underwood (keyboards, woodwinds)
Don Preston (keyboards)
Motorhead Sherwood (woodwinds, vocals)
Jimmy Carl Black (drums, percussion)
Arthur Tripp (drums, percussion)

I say WPLJ, it really tastes good to me
WPLJ won't you take a drink with me
Well, it's a good good wine
It really makes me feel so fine, so fine, so fine, so fine

I went to the store when they open up the door
I said: "Please please please gimme some more"
White port & lemon juice, white port & lemon juice,
White port & lemon juice, ooh what a good to you!

You take the bottle, you take the can, shake it up fine
You get a good good wine.
White port & lemon juice, white port & lemon juice,
White port & lemon juice, ooh what a good to you!

The W is the white, the P is the port
The L is the lemon, the J is the juice
White port & lemon juice, white port & lemon juice,
White port & lemon juice, ooh what a good to you!

Well I feel so good, I feel so fine
I got plenty of lovin', I got plenty of wine
White port & lemon juice, white port & lemon juice,
I said white port & lemon juice, ooh what a good to you!

Frank Zappa (guitar, lead vocals)
Ray White (rhythm guitar, vocals)
Ike Willis (rhythm guitar, vocals)
Bobby Martin (keyboards, saxophone, vocals)
Alan Zavod (keyboards)
Scott Thunes (bass)
Chad Wackerman (drums)

Let's move to Cleveland
(...)
Let's move to Cleveland
(I've been there)
Let's move to Cleveland

[No lyrics]