Sponsor |  usmjam | Feb 28, 2006 8:50am | Trouble Comin' Every Day
Well I'm about to get up 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 watching and I'm waiting
Hopin' for the best
Even think I go to praying
Every time I hear them sayin'
That there's no way to delay
That trouble comin' everyday
No way to delay
That trouble comin' every day
Wednesday I watched the riot
I've seen the cops out on the street
Watch them throwing rocks and stuff and choking in the heat
Listen to reports
About the whiskey 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 'n burn
And I'm watching and I'm waitin hopin' for the best
Even think I 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' everyday
You can cool it
You can heat it
Cause baby I don't need it
Take your TV tube and eat it
And all that phony stuff on sports
And all those unconfirmed reports
You know I watch that rotten box
Until my head began to hurt
From checkin' out the way
The newsmen say they get the dirt
Before the guys on channel so and so
And further they assert
That any show they'll interupt
To bring you news if it comes up
They say that if the place blows up
They will be the first to tell
Cause the boys they got downtown
Are working hard and doin swell
And if anybody gets the news
Before it hits the streets
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 watching and I'm waiting
Hopin for the best
Even think I go to praying
Every time I hear them saying
That there's no way to delay
That trouble comin' everyday
No way to delay
That trouble comin' every day
Well I've seen the fires burnin'
An' all the local people turnin'
On the merchants and the shops
Who used to sell their brooms and mops
And every other household item
Watch the mob just turn and bite em
And they say it serve them 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
And all that other crap they hand me
In the papers and TV
And all that mass stupidity
That seems to grow more everyday
Each time you hear some asshole 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 got to sit around at home
And watch this thing begin
But I bet there won't be many live
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 refuse 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
Than watch the rats go across the floor
And make up songs about being poor
Blow your harmonica, son ...
Frank Zappa, avec the Mothers of Invention
Freak Out album, and unfortunately so much truth still there |
|
| 
Sponsor | | Mvox | Mar 5, 2006 5:21pm | He said it all didnt he? Still so relevant now. Great songwriting is timeless...
(don't forget the blistering live version on Roxy and Elsewhere..) |
|
| | | mtatpggolf | Apr 5, 2006 6:28pm | And in your dreams
you can see yourself
as a prophet
saving the world
The words from your lips
"I am not a crook"
I just can't believe
you are such
a fool
I just can't believe
you are such a fool
I just...
you are...a fool - ah ah
followed by a blistering solo - Son of Orange County
I didn't have one to copy and paste so I typed the shortest one! |
|
| 
|  potatoheadbobby | Apr 13, 2006 2:47pm | Whoever we are
Wherever we're from
We shoulda noticed by now
Our behavior is dumb
And if our chances
Expect to improve
It's gonna take a lot more
Than tryin' to remove
The other race
Or the other whatever
From the face
Of the planet altogether
They call it THE EARTH
Which is a dumb kinda name
But they named it right
'Cause we behave the same . . .
We are dumb all over
Dumb all over,
Yes we are
Dumb all over,
Near 'n far
Dumb all over,
Black 'n white
People, we is not wrapped tight
Nurds on the left
Nurds on the right
Religious fanatics
On the air every night
Sayin' the Bible
Tells the story
'N makes the details
Sound real gory
'Bout what to do
If the geeks over there
Don't believe in the book
We got over here
You can't run a race
Without no feet
'N pretty soon
There won't be no street
For dummies to jog on
Or doggies to dog on
Religious fanatics
Can make it be all gone
(I mean it won't blow up
'N disappear
It'll just look ugly
For a thousand years . . . )
You can't run a country
By a book of religion
Not by a heap
Or a lump or a smidgeon
Of foolish rules
Of ancient date
Designed to make
You all feel great
While you fold, spindle
And mutilate
Those unbelievers
From a neighboring state
TO ARMS! TO ARMS!
Hooray! That's great
Two legs ain't bad
Unless there's a crate
They ship the parts
To mama in
For souvenirs: two ears (Get Down!)
Not his, not hers (but what the hey?)
The Good Book says:
"It gotta be that way!"
But their book says:
"REVENGE THE CRUSADES . . .
With whips 'n chains
'N hand grenades . . . "
TWO ARMS? TWO ARMS?
Have another and another
Our God says:
"There ain't no other!"
Our God says
"It's all okay!"
Our God says
"This is the way!"
It says in the book:
"Burn 'n destroy . . .
'N repent, 'n redeem
'N revenge, 'n deploy
'N rumble thee forth
To the land of the unbelieving scum on the other side
'Cause they don't go for what's in the book
'N that makes 'em BAD
So verily we must choppeth them up
And stompeth them down
Or rent a nice French bomb
To poof them out of existance
While leaving their real estate just where we need it
To use again
For temples in which to praise
OUR GOD
("Cause he can really take care of business!")
And when his humble TV servant
With humble white hair
And humble glasses
And a nice brown suit
And maybe a blonde wife who takes phone calls
Tells us our God says
It's okay to do this stuff
Then we gotta do it,
'Cause if we don't do it,
We ain't gwine up to hebbin!
(Depending on which book you're using at the time . . . Can't use theirs . . . it don't work . . . it's all lies . . . Gotta use mine . . . )
Ain't that right?
That's what they say
Every night . . .
Every day . . .
Hey, we can't really be dumb
If we're just following God's Orders
Hey, Let's get serious . . .
God knows what he's doin' . . .
He wrote this book here
An' the book says:
"He made us all to be just like Him," so . . .
If we're dumb . . .
Then God is dumb . . .
(An' maybe even a little ugly on the side) |
|
| 
Sponsor | | marginalprophet | Apr 15, 2006 9:11pm | Billy was a mountain.
Ethel was a tree growing off of his shoulder.
Personal favorite due to memories of old friends. It was our anthem of sorts. We quoted from it, Zappalluded to it and memorized it. Our motto was "It's OK to be different." Long Live the Rubberheads! |
|
| 
| | Dharmason | Apr 16, 2006 1:57pm | | Oh no doubt, it has to be 'Titties & Beer'. We miss you Frank (RIP) |
|
| | | mtatpggolf | Apr 16, 2006 7:23pm | Honey, 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 man like me
He was the Playboy Type (he smoked a pipe)
His fav'rite phrase was "OUTA-SITE!"
He had an Irish Setter
(Hrtch-a-pltch
Hrtch-a-pltch
Hrtch-a-pltch
Arf!)
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
(Roon doon doon doon)
Her teeth were white
(Oo-ah oo-oooh)
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 a 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 would not kiss him, he tried to ignore it,
But it made him angry!
(Angry! It made me angry!
Why it made me so angry
I COULD HAVE KILLED THAT LOUSY BITCH!)
He called her a slut
(Slut slut slut . . . )
A pig
(Pig pig pig . . . )
And a whore
(Whore whore whore . . . )
A bitch
(Bitch bitch bitch . . . )
And a cunt
(Cunt cunt cunt . . . )
And she slammed the door
(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 peeps
Through the curtain
He just got in his car
But the battery's dead
So he asked 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
Baby don't you want a
Man!
Baby don't you want a man sometimes?
followed by Don Pardo's official "Illinois Enema Bandit" type announcement
great stuff... |
|
| 
Sponsor | | traildog | Apr 27, 2006 1:31pm | | Peaches en Regalia |
|
| 
|  Crystaldish | Feb 12, 2007 11:14am | | I'll say "Theme from a Burnt Weeny Sandwich" which I first heard 35 years ago and which has been running through my head ever since. As a piece of music, though I am no expert, it may be a bit flawed, as I now think it doesn't hang together as well as it should but there is no mistaking its raw energy. From the odd scraping sound that introduces the main theme to the last note it is like an old friend to me and I would not change a thing. |
|
| 
| | Haps | Feb 12, 2007 2:58pm | | It's so hard to choose just one. "Inca Roads" has a lot of elements to it that seem to cover most of what I like about FZ's music. I seem to remember the man himself saying he considered all his music to be "one piece", so ultimately I'll pick that. :) |
|
| Favorite Composition | 11>| | | |
Zappa → Discussion