Broadway the Hardway

The Surgeon General, Doctor Koop
S'posed to give you all the poop
But when he's with P.M.R.C.
The poop he's scoopin'
Amazes me

C-Span showed him, all dressed up
In his phoney Doctor God get-up
He looked in the camera and fixed his specs
'N gave a little lecture
'Bout anal sex

He says it is not good for us
We just can't be promiscuous
He's a docter -- he should know
It's the work of the Devil, so
Girls, don't blow!

Don't blow Jimmy, don't blow Bobby
Get yourself another hobby
(If Jesus practiced medicine
I'm sure he'd do it
Just like him)

Is Doctor Koop a man to trust?
It seems at least that Reagan must
(But Ron's a trusting sort of guy --
He trusts Ed Meese
I wonder why?)

The A.M.A. has just got caught
For doin' stuff it shouldn't ought
All they do is lie and lie
Where's Doctor Koop?
He's standin' by

Surgeon General? What's the deal?
Is your epidemic real?
Are you leaving something out?
Something we can't talk about?
A little green monkey over there
Kills a million people?
That's not fair!
Did it really go that way?
Did you ask the C.I.A.?
Would they take you serious,
Or have THEY been
Promiscuous

These executives have plooked the fuck out of me
And there's still a long time to go
Before I've
Paid my debt to society.
And all I ever really wanted to do was
Play the guitar
'N bend the string like:
'Reent-toont-teent-toont-teenooneenoonee'

I've got it!
I'll be sullen and withdrawn --
I'll dwindle off into the twilight realm
Of my own secret thoughts!
I'll lay on my back here 'til dawn,
In a semi-catatonic state
And dream of guitar notes
That would irritate
An EXECUTIVE KINDA GUY...
Well, I guess that one did the trick!
If they only coulda heard it,
Half-a-dozen of 'em woulda strangled
While they was suckin' on each others' dick!

But that was just a bunch of
Imaginary notes I played --
Just a little extra somethin'
To keep me goin' from day to day
But that's okay --
I'll be gettin' outta here pretty soon --
Then I won't have to live
In this ugly fuckin' room

I can't wait to see what it's like
On the outside now...

I can't wait to see what it's like
On the outside now...

I can't wait to see what it's like
On the outside now...

I can't wait to see what it's like
On the outside now...

Frank zappa (lead guitar, vocals)
Ike willis (guitar, vocals)
Mike keneally (guitar, synthesizer, vocals)
Bobby martin (keyboards, vocals)
Ed mann (percussion)
Walt fowler (trumpet)
Bruce fowler (trombone)
Paul carman (alto saxophone)
Albert wing (tenor saxophone)
Kurt mcgettrick (baritone saxophone)
Scott thunes (bass)
Chad wackerman (drums)
Eric buxton (vocals)
Mr. sting (vocals)

Performance by sting

How'd he get in the show?

Frank zappa (lead guitar, vocals)
Ike willis (guitar, vocals)
Mike keneally (guitar, synthesizer, vocals)
Bobby martin (keyboards, vocals)
Ed mann (percussion)
Walt fowler (trumpet)
Bruce fowler (trombone)
Paul carman (alto saxophone)
Albert wing (tenor saxophone)
Kurt mcgettrick (baritone saxophone)
Scott thunes (bass)
Chad wackerman (drums)
Eric buxton (vocals)

These executives have plooked the fuck out of me
And there's still a long time to go
Before i've
Paid my debt to society.
And all i ever really wanted to do was
Play the guitar
'n bend the string like:
'reent-toont-teent-toont-teenooneenoonee'


I've got it!
I'll be sullen and withdrawn --
I'll dwindle off into the twilight realm
Of my own secret thoughts!
I'll lay on my back here 'til dawn,
In a semi-catatonic state
And dream of guitar notes
That would irritate
An executive kinda guy...
Well, i guess that one did the trick!
If they only coulda heard it,
Half-a-dozen of 'em woulda strangled
While they was suckin' on each others' dick!


But that was just a bunch of
Imaginary notes i played --
Just a little extra somethin'
To keep me goin' from day to day
But that's okay --
I'll be gettin' outta here pretty soon --
Then i won't have to live
In this ugly fuckin' room


I can't wait to see what it's like
On the outside now...


I can't wait to see what it's like
On the outside now...


I can't wait to see what it's like
On the outside now...


I can't wait to see what it's like
On the outside now...

'He's white, Jim...'

Why don't you like me?
Why don't you like me?
Am I really that bad?
HE'S BAD, HE'S BAD
HE'S BAD, HE'S BAD

'I thing you're a jerk! I'm moving from you!'
'Make me a sandwich.'
'I'm moving back to Venice.'
'I'll be black.'
'He's still white, Jim...'

I hate my mother
I hate my father
I hate my sister
And Germaine is a negro!
A NEGRO! A NEGRO!
A NEGRO! A NEGRO!

'I thought he looked good -- what happened to you?'
'Please read this pamphlet.'
'I'm so BAD!'

You take the monkey, I'll take the llama,
We'll have a party: get me a Pepsi --
Michael is Janet, Janet is Michael --
I'm so confused now --
Who is Diana?

He's oxygenated
His nose is deflated
And he thinks he looks good to you
And he thinks he looks good to you

Rico! Youngblood! Wake up!
Prohibition is over, but the country's still a mess!
They need us out there!
We've got some cleaning up to do --
especially when it comes to
THIS GUY...
Get those sport coats on with the big lapels...
They're back -- they're fashionable again!
Okay -- let's look at some mug-sheets
of the suspects from the 80's...

ADMIRAL POINDEXTER!
Get back on Felix The Cat where you belong!
Get the damn pipe out of your mouth!
You're history, you're gone!

OLIVER NORTH!
No more 'Secret Government' for you, buddy!
You're over! you're trough!

BILL CASEY!
You're dead!

BUSH!
You're still a wimp --
I'm sorry -- you're history!

DEAVER! NOFZIGER!
You're crooks! Book 'em Dan-o!
Dan-o? How'd he get in the show?
Get outta here!

REAGAN!
You're asleep! Wake up!
The country's in a mess!
You're history anyway, buddy --
You're meat -- you're trough!
You're vapor -- you're baloney without the mayo!
You're outta here, buddy --
In fact, it's Robin Leach!
'I don't know why...'

Hey, fellas -- take me to the bridge!
I want it now!
Rico! Youngblood!
Let's get outta here!
It's all over!

They got lies so big
They don't make a noise
They tell 'em so well
Like a secret disease
That makes you go numb

With a big ol' lie
And a flag and a pie
And a mom and a bible
Most folks are just liable
To buy any line
Any place, any time

When the lie's so big
As in Robertson's case,
(That sinister face
Behind all the Jesus hurrah)

Could result in the end
To a worrisome trend
In which every American
Not 'born again'
Could be punished in cruel and unusual ways
By this treacherous cretin
Who tells everyone
That he's Jesus' best friend

When the lie's so big
And the fog gets so thick
And the facts disappear
The Republican Trick
Can be played out again
People, please tell me when
We'll be rid of these men!

Just who do they really
Suppose that they are?
And how did they manage to travel as far
As they seem to have come?
Were we really that dumb?

People, wake up
Figure it out
Religious fanatics
Around and about
The Court House, The State House,
The Congress, The White House

Criminal saints
With a 'Heavenly Mission' --
A nation enraptured
By pure superstition

When the lie's so big
And the fog gets so thick
And the facts disappear
The Republican Trick
Can be played out again
People, please tell me when
We'll be rid of these men!

There's an ugly little wasel 'bout three-foot nine
Face puffed up from cryin' 'n lyin'
'Cause her sweet little hubby's
Suckin' prong part time
(In the name of The Lord)

Get a clue, little shrew
Oh yeah, oh yeah
Jesus thinks you're a jerk

Did he really choose Tammy to do His Work?
Robertson says that he's The One
Oh he sure is,
if Armageddon
Is your idea of family fun,
An' he's got some planned for you!
(Now, tell me that ain't true)

Now, what if Jimbo's slightly gay,
Will Pat let Jimbo get away?
Everything we've heard him say
Indicated that Jim must pay,
(And it just might hurt a bit)
But keep that money rollin' in,
'Cause Pat and naughty Jimbo
Can't get enough of it

Perhaps it's their idea
Of an Affirmative Action Plan
To give White Trash a 'special break';
Well, they took those Jeezo-bucks and ran
To the bank! To the bank! To the bank! To the bank!
And every night we can hear them thank
Their Buddy, up above
For sending down his love
(While you all smell the glove)

Jim and Pat should take a pole
(Right up each saintly glory-hole),
With tar and feathers too --
Just like they'd love to do to you

('Cause they think you are bad --
And they are very mad)

'Cause some folks don't want prayer in school!

(We'd need an ark to survive the drool
Of Micro-publicans, raised on hate,
And 'Jimbo-Jimbo' when they graduate)

Conviced they are 'The Chosen Ones' --
And all their parents carry guns,
And hold them cards in the N.R.A.
(With their fingers on the triggers
When they kneel and pray)

With a Ku-Klux muu-muu
In the back of the truck,
If you ain't Born Again,
They wanna mess you up, screamin':
'No abortion, no-siree!'
'Life's too precious, can't you see!'
(What's that hangin' from the neighbor's tree?
Why, it looks like 'colored folks' to me --
Would THEY do THAT...seriously?)

Imagine if you will
A multi-millionaire Television Evangelist,
Saved from Korean Combat duty by his father, a U.S. Senator

Studied Law --
But is not qualified to practice it

Father of a 'love child'
Who, in adulthood, hosts the remnants
Of papa's religious propaganda program

Claims not to be a 'Faith Healer',
But has, in the past,
Dealt stearnly with everything from hemorrhoids to hurricanes

Involved with funding for a 'secret war' in Central America
Claiming Ronald Reagan and Oliver North as close friends

Involved in suspicous 'tax-avoidance schemes',
(Under investigation for 16 months by the I.R.S.)

Claims to be a MAN OF GOD;
Currenty seeking the United States Presidency,
Hoping we will all follow him into --
The Twilight Zone

What if Pat gets in the White House,
And suddenly --
The rights of 'certain people' disappear
Mysteriously?

Now, wouldn't that sort of qualify
As an American Tragedy?
(Especially if he covers it up, sayin'
'Jesus told it to me!')

I hope we never see that day,
In The Land of The Free --
Or someday will we?
Will we?

And if you don't know by now,
The truth of what I'm tellin' you,
Then, surely I have failed somehow --

And Jesus will think I'm a jerk, just like you --
If you let those TV Preachers
Make a monkey out of you!

I said:
'Jesus will think you're a jerk'
And it would be true!

There's an old rugged cross
In the land of cutton --
It's still burnin' on somebody's lawn
And it still smells rotten

Jim and Tammy!
Oh, baby!
You gotta go!
You really got to go!