Zappa In New York

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)

It was the blackest night
There was no moon in sight
You know the stars ain't shinin'
'cause the sky's too tight
I heard the scarey wind
I seen some ugly trees
There was a werewolf honkin'
'long the side of me

I'm mean 'n i'm bad, y'know i ain't no sissy
Got a big-titty girly by the name of chrissy
Talkin' about her 'n my bike 'n me...
'n this ride up the mountain of mystery, mystery

I noticed even the crickets
Was actin' weird up here
And so i figured i might
Just drink a little beer
I said, "gimme summa that what yer suckin' on..."
But there was no reply
'cause she was gone...

"where's those titties that i like so well
'n my goddamn beer!"
Is what i started to yell, then i heard this noise
Like a crunchin' twig, 'n up jumped the devil...he's about this big...

He had a red suit on
An' a widow's peak
An' then a pointed tail
'n like a sulphur reek
Yes, it was him awright
I sweared i knowed it was
He had some human flesh
Stuck underneath his claws
You know it looked to me
Like it was titty skin
I said, "you sonofabitch!"
'cause i was mad at him,
Well he just got out his floss
'n started cleanin' his fang
So i shot him with my shooter
Said: bang bang bang

Then the sucker just laughed 'n said, "put it away...
You know, i ate her all up...now what you
Gonna say?"
You ate my chrissy? "titties 'n all!"
Well, what about the beer then, boy? "were the cans
This tall?"
Even her boots? "would i lie to you?"
Shit, you musta been hungry! "yes, this is true."
Well don't they pay you good for the
Stuff that you do?
"well, you know, i can't complain when the checks come through..."

Well i want my chrissy, 'n i want my beer
So you just barf it back up now, devil,
Do you hear?

"blow it out your ass, motorcycle man! i mean, i am the devil,
Do you understand? just what will you give me
For your
Titties and beer? i suppose you noticed this little
Contract here..." yer goddam right, you son-of-a-whore,
"don't call me that"
That's about the only reason
...gimme that paper...bet yer ass i'll sign...
'cause i need a beer, 'n it's titty-squeezin' time

"man, you can't fool me...you ain't that bad...
I mean you shoulda seen some of the souls i had...
Why there was milhous nixon 'n agnew, too...
'n both of those suckers was worse 'n you..."

Well, let's make a deal if you think that's true
I mean, you're the devil, so whatcha gonna do?

(improvised dialog)
"wait a minute...a tinge of doubt crosses my mind...when you say...
That you want to make a deal with me..."

"that's very, very true
I'm only interested in two things
"yeah?"
See if you can guess what they are"

"i would think...uh...let's see, maybe stravinsky..."

"i'll give you two clues. let go of your pickle"

"what?"

"let go of your pickle!"

"i'm not holding my pickle"

"well, who's holding your pickle then?"

"i don't know...she's out in the audience...
Hey dale, would you like to come up here and hold
My pickle to satisfy this weird man out on the stage?"

"i'm only interested in two things, and that's
Titties and beer
You know what i mean?
"what?"
Titties and beer
Titties and beer
Titties and beer
Titties and beer
Titties and beer
Titties and beer
Titties and beer!"
Titties and beer!"
"i don't know if you're the right guy?"
Titties and beer!"
Titties and beer!"

"no! don't sign it! give me time to think...
I mean hold on a second boy, 'cause that's magic ink!"

And then the devil let go of his pickle
And out come my girl, there was her titties
Flop-floppin'...all around the world

She said "i got me three beers and a fistful of downs
And i'm gonna get ripped, so fuck, you clowns!"
Then she gave us the finger, it was rigid and stiff
That's when the devil, he farted
And she went right over the cliff!
The devil was mad, i took off to my pad
I swear i do declare, how did she get back there?
I swear i do declare, how did she get back there?
I swear i do declare, how did she get back there?
I swear i do declare, how did she get back there?
I swear i do declare, how did she get back there?

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)

All right now, watch this. let me tell you about this song. this song was originally constructed as a drum solo. that's right. now, after terry learned how to play the black page on the drum set
Igured, well, maybe it would be good for other instruments. so i wrote a melody that went along with the drum solo. and that turned into the black page part 1, the hard version. then i said, wel
At about the other people in the world, who might enjoy the melody of the black page, but couldn't really approach its statistical density in its basic form. so, i went to work and constructed a
Le diddy which is now being set up for you at this little disco type vamp. this is the black page part 2, the easy teenage new york version. get down with your bad selves so to speak to the blac
E part 2.

Thank you.

Did anybody dance?

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?

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)

Flies all green and buzzin',
In this 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 gets to know
About the regular light in the day.

And it stinks so bad, the stones been chokin',
And weepin' greenish drops.
In the room where the giant fire puffer works,
And the torture never stops.

The torture never stops.

Slime and rot, rats and snot,
And vomit on the floor.
Fifty yoogly soldiers, man,
Holdin' spears by the iron door.
Knives and spikes, and guns and the likes
Of every tool of pain.
And a sinister midget, with a bucket and a mop,
Where the blood goes down the drain.

And it stinks so bad, the stones been chokin',
And weepin' greenish drops.
In the room where the giant fire puffer works,
And the torture never stops.

The torture never stops.
The torture.. the torture..
The torture never stops.

Flies all green and buzzin',
In this dungeon of despair.
An evil prince eats a steaming pig,
In a chamber right near there.
He eats the snouts and the trotters first.
The loins and the groins is soon dispersed.
His carvin' style is well rehearsed.
He stands and shouts:

All men be cursed!
All men be cursed!
All men be cursed!
All men be cursed!

And disagree?
Well, no one durst.

He's the best, of course, of all the worst.
Some wrong been done, he done it first.

And it stinks so bad, his bones been chokin',
And 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 and buzzin',
In this dungeon of despair.
Who are all those people,
That he's locked away down there?
Are they crazy?
Are they sainted?
Are they zeroes,
Someone painted?

And it's never been explained,
Since it first it was created.
But a dungeon, 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 dealin' in.
That's what's the deal we're dealin' in.
That's what's the deal we're dealin' in.
That's what's the deal we're dealin' in.