Zoot Allures

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)

Find her finer, sneak up behind her,
Unwrap like a mummy 'til you finally unwind her.
Find her, blind her, see who designed her,
Act like a dummy 'til you finally grind her.

If you should see a girl on the street,
Now maybe you might think she is sweet,
But if you wanna tickle her treat,
Now really what should you do?

Don't never let her know you are smart.
The universe is no place to start.
You gotta play it straight from the heart,
She gwine renunciate you.

That's why you gotta

Find her finer, sneak up behind her,
Unwrap like a mummy 'til you finally unwind her.
Find her, blind her, see who designed her,
Act like a dummy 'til you finally grind her.

Now maybe you might think this is crude,
And maybe you might think i am rude,
And maybe this approach i have spewed
Is not the one for you.

But believe me later on you'll find,
As you impress her with your mind,
That you will just be left behind,
For a wiser fool.

So you might as well

Find her finer, sneak up behind her,
Unwrap like a mummy 'til you finally unwind her.
Find her, blind her, see who designed her,
Act like a dummy 'til you finally grind her.

{repeat; fade out}

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

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)

L.a. in the summer of '69
I went downtown and bought me some wine
Oh, i drank it down under the table
I said: watch me now,
I'm gonna eat the label
Well i'm a wino man,
Don't you know i am?

36 - 24, hips about 30
I seen a fine lady
And i started talkin' dirty
Boy, she looked over at me
And she raised her thumb
She said: "jam down the road
You bum, bum, bum, bum"
I'm a wino man,
Don't you know i am?

I went to the country,
And while i was gone
I lost control of my body functions
On the road ahead at the ladies front lawn
I'm so ashamed,
But i'm a wino man
I can't help myself
I've been drinkin' all night
Till my eyes got red
Stumbled on the gutter
And busted my head
Bugs in my zoot suit,
Been scratchin' like a dog
I can't stand no water,
And i stink like a hog
Give me a five dollar bill,
And an overcoat too
Give me a five dollar bill,
And an overcoat too
A five dollar bill and an overcoat too
A five dollar bill and a floor shine shoe

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.

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)