You Can't

Frank zappa (lead guitar, vocals)
Ray white (rhythm guitar, vocals)
Eddie jobson (keyboards, violin, vocals)
Patrick o'hearn (bass, vocals)
Terry bozzio (drums, vocals)
Ruth underwood (percussion, synthesizer)
Don pardo (vocals)
David samuels (vibes)
Randy brecker (trumpet)
Mike brecker (tenor saxophone, flute)
Lou marini (alto saxophone, flute)
Ronnie cuber (baritone saxophone, clarinet)
Tom malone (trombone, trumpet, piccolo)
John bergamo (percussion over-dub)
Ed mann (percussion over-dub)
Louanne neil (osmotic harp over-dub)

And now folks it's time for don pardo to deliver our special illinois enema bandit-type announcement take it away, don

"this is a true story
About a famous criminal
From right around chicago
This is the story of michael kenyon
A man who's serving time at this very moment
For the crime of armed robbery

It so happened, that at the time of the robbery
Michael, decided to give his female victims
A little enema
Apparently, there was no law against that
But his name lives on
Michael kenyon
The illinois enema bandit!"

The illinois enema bandit
I heard he's on the loose
I heard he's on the loose
Lord, the pitiful screams
Of all them college-educated women...
Boy, he'd just be tyin' 'em up
(they'd be all bound down!)
Just be pumpin' every one of 'em up with all the bag fulla
The illinois enema bandit juice
He just be pumpin' every one of 'em up with all the bag
Fulla the illinois enema bandit juice

He just be pumpin' every one of 'em up with all the bag
Fulla the illinois enema bandit juice
He just be pumpin' every one of 'em up with all the bag
Fulla the illinois enema bandit juice

The illinois enema bandit
I heard it on the news
I heard it on the news
Bloomington illinois...he has caused some alarm
Just sneakin' around there
From farm to farm
Got a rubberized bag
And a hose on his arm
Lookin' for some rustic co-ed rump
That he just might wanna pump
Lookin' for some rustic co-ed rump
That he just might wanna pump
Lookin' for some rustic co-ed rump
That he just might wanna pump

The illinois enema bandit
One day he'll have to pay
One day he'll have to pay
The police will say, "you're under arrest!"
And the judge would have him for a special guest
The d.a. will order a secret test
And stuff his pudgy little thumbs in the side of his vest
Then they'll put out a call for the jury folks
And the judge would say, "no poo-poo jokes!"
Then they'll drag in the bandit for all to see,
Sayin' "don't nobody have no sympathy...
Hot soap water in the first degree!"
And then the bandit might say, "why is everybody looking' at me?"

Well did you cause this misery?
Well did you cause this kinda misery?
Well did you cause this misery?
Now, one girl shout: "let the bandit be!"

Bandit are you guilty?
Bandit are you guilty? tell me now, what's
Your plea?
Another girl shout: "let the fiend go free!"
Are you guilty? bandit, did you do these deeds?
The bandit say, "it must be just what they all needs..."
"it must be just what they all needs..."
"it must be just what they all needs..."
"it must be just what they all needs..."
"it must be just what they all needs..."
"it must be just what they all needs..."
Etc. repeat

Wanna, wanna, wanna, wanna enema
Enema
Repeat...

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)

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)

I got a girl with a little rubber head
Rinse her out every night just before i go to bed
She never talked back like a lady might do
And she looks like she loves it every time i get through
And her name is p-i-n-k-y
P-i-n no lie
K-y me-oh-my
She's 69 - 95, give her a try
P-i-n-k-y
P-i-n i cry
K-y don't be shy
69 - 95 boy, give her a try

Her eyes 's all shut in an ecstasy face
You can cram it down her throat, people, any old place
Throw a little switch on her battery pack
You can poot it, you can shoot it till your wife gets back

And her name is p-i-n-k-y
P-i-n i cry
K-y don't be shy
69 - 95 boy, give her a try

I got a girl with a little rubber head
Rinse her out every night just before i go to bed
She never talked back like a lady might do
And she looks like she loves it every time i get through

Her eyes 's all shut in an ecstasy face
You can cram it down her throat, people, any old place
Throw a little switch on her battery pack
You can poot it, you can shoot it till your wife gets back
You can poot it, you can shoot it till your wife gets back
You can poot it, you can shoot it till your wife gets back
You can poot it, you can shoot it till your wife gets back
You can poot it, you can shoot it till your wife gets back
You can poot it, you can shoot it till your wife gets back

Frank zappa (guitar, vocals)
Ralph humphrey (drums)
Sal marquez (trumpet, vocals)
Tom fowler (bass)
Bruce fowler (trombone)
George duke (keyboards, synthesizer)
Ruth underwood (marimba, vibes, percussion)
Ian underwood (flute, clarinet, alto saxophone, tenor saxophone)
Jean-luc ponty (violin, baritone violin)
Ricky lancelotti (vocals)

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

Give me
Your dirty love
Like a pink donation
To the dragon in your dreams

I don't need your sweet devotion
I don't want your cheap emotion
Just whip me up some dragon lotion
For your dirty love

Give me
Your dirty love
Like some tacky little pamphlet
In your daddy's bottom drawer

Give me
Your dirty love
I don't believe you have ever seen
That book before

I don't need no consolation
I don't want your reservation
I only got one destination
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'll ignore your cheap aroma
And your little-bo-peep diploma
I'll just put you in a coma
With some dirty love

The poodle bites!
(come on, frenchie)
The poodle chews it!
(snap it!)
The poodle bites!
(come on, frenchie)
The poodle chews it!
(snap it!)

Frank zappa (lead guitar, vocals)
Warren cucurullo (rhythm guitar, vocals)
Denny walley (slide guitar, vocals)
Ike willis (lead vocals)
Peter wolf (keyboards)
Tommy mars (keyboards)
Arthur barrow (bass, vocals)
Ed mann (percussion)
Vinnie colaiuta (drums)
Jeff (tenor saxophone)
Marginal chagrin (baritone saxophone)
Stumuk (bass saxophone)
Dale bozzio (vocals)
Al malkin (vocals)
Craig steward (harmonica)

A festive cyo party with crepe paper streamers, contestants for the broom dance, the "hokey pokey," baked goods, & father riley making sure the lights don't go down too low...

Father riley and various party goers:
Catholic girls
With a tiny little mustache
Catholic girls
Do you know how they go?
Catholic girls
In the rectory basement
Father riley's a fairy
But it don't bother mary
Catholic girls
At the cyo
Catholic girls
Do you know how they go?
Catholic girls
There can be no replacement
How do they go, after the show?

Joe:
All the way
That's the way they go
Every day
And none of their mamas ever seem to know
Hip-hip-hooray
For all the class they show
There's nothing like a catholic girl
At the cyo
When they learn to blow...

Father riley:
They're learning to blow
All the catholic boys!

Mary:
Warren cuccurullo...

Father riley:
Catholic boys!

Mary:
Kinda young, kinda wow!

Father riley:
Catholic boys!

Mary:
Vinnie colaiuta...

Chorus:
Where are they now?
Did they all take the vow?

Father riley:
Catholic girls

Warren:
Carmenita scarfone!

Father riley:
Catholic girls

Officer butzis:
Hey! she gave me vd!

Father riley:
Catholic girls!

Warren:
Toni carbone!

Chorus:
With a tongue like a cow
She could make you go wow!

Joe:
Vd vowdy vootie
Right away
That's the way they go
Every day
Whenever their mamas take them to a show
Matinee
Pass the popcorn please
There's nothing like a catholic girl
With her hand in the box
When she's on her knees

Larry:
She was on her knees,
My little catholic girl

Chorus:
In a little white dress
Catholic girls
They never confess
Catholic girls
I got one for a cousin
I love how they go
So send me a dozen
Catholic girls
Ooooooh!
Catholic girls
Ooooooh!
(etc.)

Central scrutinizer:
This is the central scrutinizer...
Joe had a girl friend named mary.
She used to go the church club every week.
They'd meet each other there
Hold hands
And think pure thoughts
But one night at the social club meeting
Mary didn't show up...
She was sucking cock backstage at the armory
In order to get a pass
To see some big rock group for free...

Frank zappa (lead guitar, vocals)
Adrian belew (rhythm guitar, vocals)
Tommy mars (keyboards, vocals)
Peter wolf (keyboards)
Patrick o'hearn (bass, vocals)
Terry bozzio (drums, vocals)
Ed mann (percussion, vocals)
Napoleon murphy brock (background vocals)
Andre lewis (background vocals)
Randy thornton (background vocals)
Davey moire (background vocals)

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 pushed it in
Why did he hurt me?
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
Hope i don't grow
I know nobody likes me
'cause everywhere i go
They say no
They say no
They say no

Now i'm older
Got a place in the town, babe
Got a chin on my shoulder
'n' it keeps growing down 'n' down 'n' down
I'm horny 'n' lonely
'n' i wish i was dead
Why am i livin'?
I wanna be dead instead
That's right, i said
I wanna be dead instead
Now dig this:

I wanna be dead
In bed
Please kill me
'cause that would thrill me
I wanna be dead
In bed
Please kill me
'cause that would thrill me
(etc, repeat)

Frank zappa (lead guitar, vocals)
Ray white (rhythm guitar, vocals)
Eddie jobson (keyboards, violin, vocals)
Patrick o'hearn (bass, vocals)
Terry bozzio (drums, vocals)
Ruth underwood (percussion, synthesizer)
Don pardo (vocals)
David samuels (vibes)
Randy brecker (trumpet)
Mike brecker (tenor saxophone, flute)
Lou marini (alto saxophone, flute)
Ronnie cuber (baritone saxophone, clarinet)
Tom malone (trombone, trumpet, piccolo)
John bergamo (percussion over-dub)
Ed mann (percussion over-dub)
Louanne neil (osmotic harp over-dub)

Honey honey, hey
Baby don't you want a man like me
Honey honey, hey
Baby don't you want a man like me

He was the playboy type (he smoke a pipe)
His fav'rite phrase was "outa-site!"
He had an irish setter

It was a singles bar, a tuesday night
The moon was dim, the band was tight
They did the bump together

What a splendid sight,(ren-nen-nen-nen) her teeth were white
The drinks were cheap (it was ladies nite)
He was glad that he met her

She was an office girl ("my name is betty")
Her fav'rite group was helen reddy
(they discussed the weather)

Honey honey, hey
Baby don't you want a man like me
Honey honey, hey
Baby don't you want a man like me

Honey honey, hey
Baby don't you want a
Baby don't you want a
Baby don't you want a man

She was the lonely sort, just a little too short
Her jokes were dumb and her fav'rite sport
Was hockey (in the winter)

He was duly impressed and was quick to suggest
Any sport with a puck had to be 'bout the best
As he jabbed his elbow in her ("get it honey? get it?")

Later on they went off to where the music was soft,
The candles were drippy, they saw a real hippy
Who delivered their dinner

The rice was brown, and soon they found
That the crowd around that had jammed the room,
Well it seemed to be getting thinner

Honey honey, hey
Baby don't you want a man like me
Honey honey, hey
Baby don't you want a man like me
Honey honey, hey
Baby don't you want a
Baby don't you want a
Baby don't you want a man

He took her home to a motor court
She wouldn't kiss him, he tried to ignore it,
But it made him angry!
Angry, it made me angry, it made me so angry i could have killed that
Lousy bitch!)

He called her a slut, a pig and a whore
A bitch and a cunt and she slammed the door
In a petulant frenzy!
(a petulant frenzy, this is a petulant frenzy.
I'm petulant, and i'm having a frenzy)

On the sofa she weeps
Boo hoo hoo hoo
She weeps and she weeps
Boo hoo hoo hoo hoo hoo
She weeps and she peeks
Through the curtain

He just got in his car
But the battery's dead
So he asks to use the phone
And she gives him some head
And that's the end of the story

Honey honey, hey
Baby don't you want a man like me
Honey honey, hey
Baby don't you want a man like me
Honey honey, hey
Baby don't you want a
Baby don't you want a man
Baby don't you want a man sometimes?

Frank zappa (guitar, synclavier)
Steve vai (guitar)
Johnny "guitar" watson (guitar, vocals)
Ike willis (guitar, vocals)
Ray white (guitar, vocals)
Bobby martin (keyboards, vocals)
Tommy mars (keyboards)
Scott thunes (bass)
Chad wackerman (drums)
Ed mann (percussion)

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

They took a whole bunch of acid
So they could see where it's at
(it's over there, over there,
Over there, over there
And underneath also)
They lived on a whole bunch of nothing
They thought they looked very good
They'd never ever worry
They were always in a hurry
To convince themselves that what they were
Was really very groovy
Yes, they believed in all the papers
And the magazines that defined their folklore
They could never laugh
At who or what they thought they were
Or even what they thought
They sorta oughta be
They were totally empty
(totally empty)
And their lives were really useless
So what the fuck?
They didn't have no sense of humor
Now they got nothing left
To laugh about
Including themselves

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

They were mellow
They were yellow
They were wearing smelly blankets
They looked like donovan fans
They walkin' 'round
With stupid flowers
In they hair and everywhere
They tried to stuff 'em up the guns
Of all the cops
And other servants of the law
Who tried to push 'em around
And later moved 'em down
But they were full of all that shit
That they believed in
So what the fuck?
(what the fuck?)
Now i've seen 'em tightenin' up they headbands
On the weekend
And they get loaded
When they came to town
They walked around in greenwich village
To buy posters they could hang up
In them smelly little secret
Black light bedrooms
On long island
Singin': "jimi come back!"
Now come back and regulate the boy's fuzz-tone
Your haze was so purple
It caused your axis to be bold as love
Now jimi (feed back) gimme some feedback
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 and turn
Turn and turn
We're turning again
Turn and turn
Turn and 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 of destruction
We can act like we are
Something really special
You just jump in the bath-tub
With that other guy jim
And make him be more careful
We can visit big mama
And wrap 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 the windum
From the second floor
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 and turn
Turn and turn
We're turning again
Turn and turn
Turn and turn
We're turning again

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