Frank Zappa Lyrics
Frank Zappa Lyrics
"The Torture Never Stops Lyrics"
Chanson D'Automne Lyrics
Les sanglots longs Des violons De l'automne Blessent mon coeur D'une langueur Monotone. Tout suffocant Et Bl?me, quand Sonne l'heure Je me souviens Des jours anciens Et je pleure... Et je m'en vais Auvent meuvais Qui m'emporte de?a, dela, Pareil ? la Feuille
Les sanglots longs Des violons De l'automne Blessent mon coeur D'une langueur Monotone. Tout suffocant Et Bl?me, quand Sonne l'heure Je me souviens Des jours anciens Et je pleure... Et je m'en vais Auvent meuvais Qui m'emporte de?a, dela, Pareil ? la Feuille
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 'n buzzin' in his 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 get to know about the regular life in the day;
An' it stinks so bad the stones
I Wrote A Book About Rock And Roll Lyrics
Let me tell you something you don't seem to understand I don't really care about your crappy local band. Don't you tell me I can't tell you what to do I can, on the whole, 'cause I work for a magazine and I wrote a book about rock and roll I wrote a book about rock and roll I wrote a book about rock an
been chokin'Let me tell you something you don't seem to understand I don't really care about your crappy local band. Don't you tell me I can't tell you what to do I can, on the whole, 'cause I work for a magazine and I wrote a book about rock and roll I wrote a book about rock and roll I wrote a book about rock an
'N weepin' greenish drops
In the room where the giant fire puffer works
'N the torture never stops
The torture never stops
Slime 'n rot, rats 'n snot 'n vomit on the floor
Fifty ugly soldiers, man, holdin' spears by the iron door
Knives 'n spikes 'n guns 'n the likes of every tool of pain
An' a sinister midget with a bucket an' a mop where the blood goes down the drain;
An' it stinks so bad the stones been chokin'
'N weepin' greenish drops
In the room where the giant fire puffer works
'N the torture never stops
The torture never stops
The torture
The torture
The torture never stops.
Can't Believe Lyrics
Lyrics by A. Copeland Music by A. Copeland Monday morning brings the sunrise A welcome sight - a sight for sore eyes I owe my answers now to no one Flying high and anchor free A mirror image passes me If I had only taken one chance Stepped up on the stage for all to see (Chorus) And I
Lyrics by A. Copeland Music by A. Copeland Monday morning brings the sunrise A welcome sight - a sight for sore eyes I owe my answers now to no one Flying high and anchor free A mirror image passes me If I had only taken one chance Stepped up on the stage for all to see (Chorus) And I
Flies all green 'n buzzin' in his dungeon of despair
An evil prince eats a steamin' pig in a chamber right near there
He eats the snouts 'n the trotters first
The loin's 'n the groin's 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
(Well, well) An' he stinks so bad, his bones been chokin'
(Yeah) 'N weepin' greenish drops,
(Well) In the night of the iron sausage,
(Well) Where the torture neve
The Fucked Up Blues Lyrics
I got the fucked up blues I got the fucked up blues Lord what can you do About the fuckin' fucked up blues Well the beans have been bakin' Upon the camel's hump Like a voodoo curse in an old lady's purse Confetti on my grave I got the fucked up blues I got the fucked up blues Lord
r stopsI got the fucked up blues I got the fucked up blues Lord what can you do About the fuckin' fucked up blues Well the beans have been bakin' Upon the camel's hump Like a voodoo curse in an old lady's purse Confetti on my grave I got the fucked up blues I got the fucked up blues Lord
The torture never stops
The torture
The torture
The torture never stops.
Flies all green 'n buzzin' in his dungeon of despair
Who are all those people that he's locked away up there
Are they crazy?,
Are they sainted?
Are they zeros someone painted?,
It has never been explained since at first it was created
But a dungeon like a sin
Requires naught but lockin' in
Of everything that's ever been
Look at hers
Look at him
That's what's the deal we're dealing in
That's what's the deal we're dealing in
That's what's the deal we're dealing in
That's what's the deal we're dealing in