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Frank Zappa - Apostrophe (') Album Lyrics



Frank Zappa - Apostrophe (') Lyrics






Dont Eat The Yellow Snow

[includes a quote from Midnight Sun (Hampton/Burke/Mercer)]

Dreamed I was an Eskimo
(Bop-bop ta-da-da bop-bop Ta-da-da)
Frozen wind began to blow
(Bop-bop ta-da-da bop-bop Ta-da-da)
Under my boots 'n around my toe
(Bop-bop ta-da-da bop-bop Ta-da-da)
Frost had bit the ground below
(Boop-boop aiee-ay-ah!)
Was a hundred degrees below zero
(Booh!)
(Bop-bop ta-da-da bop-bop Ta-da-da)
And my momma cried:
Boo-a-hoo hoo-ooo
And my momma cried:
Nanook-a, no no (no no . . . )
Nanook-a, no no (no no . . . )
Don't be a naughty Eskimo-wo-oh
(Bop-bop ta-da-da bop-bop Ta-da-da)
Save your money: don't go to the show
Well I turned around an' I said:
HO HO
(Booh!)
Well I turned around an' I said:
HO HO
(Booh!)
Well I turned around an' I said:
HO HO
An' the Northern Lites commenced t' glow
An' she said
(Bop-bop ta-da-da bop . . . )
With a tear in her eye:
WATCH OUT WHERE THE HUSKIES GO
AN' DON'T YOU EAT THAT YELLOW SNOW
WATCH OUT WHERE THE HUSKIES GO
AN' DON'T YOU EAT THAT YELLOW SNOW

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Frank Vincent Zappa
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.




Nanook Rubs It

Well, right about that time people
A fur-trapper who was strictly from commercial
Had the unmitigated audacity to jump up from behind my igloo peekaboo
And he started into whippin' on my favorite baby seal
With a lead-filled snowshoe

I said, with a
Lead-Filled
With a lead filled snowshoe
He said, peekaboo
I said, with a
Lead-Filled
With a lead filled snowshoe
He said, peekaboo
He went right upside the head of my favorite baby seal
He went whap with a lead-filled snowshoe, and
He hit him on the nose and hit him on the fin, and he
That got me just about as evil as an eskimo boy can be. so I bent down
And I reached down, and I scooped down and I gathered up a generous
Mitten-ful of the deadly yellow snow

The deadly yellow snow, from right there where the huskies go!

Whereupon I proceeded to take that mittenful of the deadly yellow snow
Crystals and rub it all into his beady little eyes with a vigorous
Circular motion hitherto unknown to the people of this area, but destined
To take the place of the mudshark in your mythology
Here it goes,the circular motion, now rub it!

(Here fido)

And then
In a fit of anger
I pounced

And I pounced again

Great googly moogly!

I jumped up and down on the chest of the him

I injured
The fur trapper

Well he was very upset, as you can understand
And rightly so, because the
Deadly yellow snow crystals had
Deprived him of his
Sight

And he stood up, and he looked around, and he said

I can't see
I can't see
Oh, woe is me
I can't see

Well.....you know
I can't see
Nothin'

He took a dog-doo snow cone and stuffed it in my right eye
He took a dog-doo snow cone and stuffed it in my other eye
And the husky wee-wee
I mean the doggie wee-wee
Has blinded me
And I can't see
Temporarily

Well, the fur-trapper stood there, with his arms outstretched across the
Frozen white wasteland, trying to figure out what he was going to do about
His deflicted eyes. and it was at that precise moment that he remembered
And ancient eskimo legend, wherein it is written (on whatever it is that
They write it on up there) that if anything bad ever happens to your eyes
As the result of some sort of conflict with anyone named
Nanook,
The only way you can get it fixed up is to go

Trudging across the tundra
Mile after mile
Trudging across the tundra

Right down to the parish of st. alphonzo
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Frank Zappa
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.




St. Alfonzos Pancake Breakfast

Yes indeed, here we are!
At Saint Alfonzo's Pancake Breakfast
Where I stole the mar-juh-reen
An' widdled on the Bingo Cards in lieu of the latrine
I saw a handsome parish lady
Make her entrance like a queen
Why she was totally chenille
And her old man was a Marine
As she abused a sausage pattie
And said why don't you treat me mean?
(Hurt me, hurt me, hurt me, oooooh!)
At Saint Alfonzo's Pancake Breakfast
(Hah! Good God! Get off the bus!)
Where I stole the mar-juh-reen . . .

Saint Alfonzo
Saint Alfonzo
Saint Alfonzo
Saint Alfonzo
Ooo-ooo-WAH . . .

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: FRANK ZAPPA
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.




Father OBlivion

(Get up on your feet and do the Funky Alfonzo)

Father Vyvian O'Blivion
Resplendent in his frock
Was whipping up the batter
For the pancakes of his flock
He was looking rather bleary
He forgot to watch the clock

But the night before
Behind the door
A leprechaun had stroked it

But the night before
Behind the door
A leprechaun had slowly stroked it
He slowly stroked it

But the night before
Behind the door
A leprechaun had stroked his spot
He stroked his spot

It set him off in such a frenzy
He sang "Lock Around the Crock!"

And he topped it off with a
And he topped it off with a
And he topped it off with a

As he stumbled on his
He was delighted as it stiffened
And ripped right through his sock

"Oh St. Alfonzo would be proud of me"
He shouted down the block

Domine vobiscum
Et cum spiritu tuo
Don't you eat my sleazy pancakes
Just for Saintly Alphonzo

They're so light and fluffy white
We'll raise a fortune by tonight
They're so light and fluffy white
We'll raise a fortune by tonight
They're so light and fluffy brown
They're the finest in the town
They're so light and fluffy brown
They're the finest in the town

Good morning your highness
Oo oo ooo
Good gosh, you're sumptuous
Oo oo ooo

Good morning your highness
Oo oo ooo
Good gosh, you're sumptuous
Oo oo ooo
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Frank Zappa
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.




Cosmik Debris

The Mystery Man came over
An' he said: "I'm outa-site!"
He said, for a nominal service charge,
I could reach nervonna t'nite
If I was ready, willing 'n able
To pay him his regular fee
He would drop all the rest of his pressing affairs
And devote His Attention to me
But I said . . .
Look here brother,
Who you jivin' with that Cosmik Debris?
(Now who you jivin' with that Cosmik Debris?)
Look here brother,
Don't you waste your time on me

The Mystery Man got nervous
An' he fidget around a bit
He reached in the pocket of his Mystery Robe
An' he whipped out a shaving kit
Now, I thought it was a razor
An' a can of foamin' goo
But he told me right then when the top popped open
There was nothin' his box won't do
With the oil of Afro-dytee
An' the dust of the Grand Wazoo
He said:
"You might not believe this, little fella, but it'll cure your Asthma too!"
An' I said . . .
Look here brother,
Who you jivin' with that Cosmik Debris?
(Now what kind of a geroo are you anyway?)
Look here brother,
Don't you waste your time on me
Don't waste yer time . . .

I've got troubles of my own, I said
An' you can't help me out
So take your meditations an' your preparations
An' ram it up yer snout
"BUT I GOT A KRISTL BOL!," he said
An' held it to the light
So I snatched it
All away from him
An' I showed him how to do it right
I wrapped a newspaper 'round my head
So I'd look like I was Deep
I said some Mumbo Jumbos then
An' told him he was goin' to sleep
I robbed his rings
An' pocket watch
An' everything else I found
I had that sucker hypnotized
He couldn't even make a sound
I proceeded to tell him his future then
As long as he was hanging around,
I said
"The price of meat has just gone up
An' yer ol' lady has just gone down . . . "
Look here brother,
Who you jivin' with that Cosmik Debris?
(Now is that a real poncho or is that a Sears poncho?)
Don't you know,
You could make more money as a butcher,
So don't you waste your time on me
(Don't waste it, don't waste your time on me . . . )
Ohm shonty, ohm shonty, ohm shonty-ohm
SSHONTAY

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: FRANK ZAPPA
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.,




Excentrifugal Forz

The clouds are really cheap
The way I seen 'em thru the ports
Of which there is a half-a-dozen
On the base of my resorz
You wouldn't think I'd have too many
Since I never cared for sports
But I'm never really lonely
In my Excentrifugal Forz

There's always Korla Plankton
Him 'n me can play the blues
An' then I'll watch him buff that
Tiny ruby that he use
He'll straighten up his turban
An' eject a little ooze
Along a one-celled Hammond Organism
Underneath my shoes
An' then I'll call PUP TENTACLE
I'll ask him how's his chin
I'll fine out
How the future is
Because that's where he's been
His little feet got long 'n flexible
An' suckers fell right in
The time he crossed the line
From LATER ON to WAY BACK WHEN

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher




Apostrophe

Jim gordon (drums)
John guerin (drums)
Aynsley dunbar (drums)
Ralph humphrey (drums)
Jack bruce (bass)
Erroneous (bass)
Tom fowler (bass)
Frank zappa (bass, lead vocals, guitar)
George duke (keyboards, background vocals)
Don "sugar cane" harris (violin)
Jean-luc ponty (violin)
Ruth underwood (percussion)
Ian underwood (saxophone)
Napoleon murphy brock (saxophone, background vocals)
Sal marquez (trumpet)
Bruce fowler (trombone)
Ray collins (background vocals)
Kerry mcnabb (background vocals)
Susie glower (background vocals)
Debbie (background vocals)
Lynn (background vocals)
Ruben ladron de guevara (background vocals)
Robert camarena (background vocals)
Tony duran (rhythm guitar)

(instrumental)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Frank Zappa, James Gordon, John Bruce
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Reservoir Media Management, Inc.




Uncle Remus

Wo, are we movin' too slow?
Have you seen us,
Uncle Remus . . .
We look pretty sharp in these clothes (yes, we do)
Unless we get sprayed with a hose
It ain't bad in the day
If they squirt it your way
'Cept in the winter, when it's froze
An' it's hard if it hits
On yer nose
On yer nose

Just keep yer nose
To the grindstone, they say
Will that redeem us,
Uncle Remus . . .
I can't wait till my Fro is full-grown
I'll just throw 'way my Doo-Rag at home
I'll take a drive to BEVERLY HILLS
Just before dawn
An' knock the little jockeys
Off the rich people's lawn
An' before they get up
I'll be gone, I'll be gone
Before they get up
I'll be knocking the jockeys off the lawn
Down in the dew

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: FRANK VINCENT ZAPPA, GEORGE DUKE
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group




Stink-Foot

In the dark
Where all the fevers grow
Under the water
Where the shark bubbles blow
In the morning
By your radio
Do the walls close in to suffocate, yah
You ain't got no friends
And all the others they hate, yah
Does the life you been leading gotta go? (Hmm?)
(Well let me straighten you out)
About a place I know
(Get your shoes and socks on people, it's right around the corner)

Out through the night and the whispering breezes
To the place where they keep the imaginary diseases
Out through the night and the whispering breezes
To the place where they keep the imaginary diseases

This has got to be the disease for you
Now scientists call this disease, Brohm-a-drosis
But us regular folks, who might wear tennis shoes
Or an occasional python boot,
Know this exquisite little inconvenience by the name of
STINK-FOOT

You know
My python boot is too tight
I couldn't get it off last night
A week went by
And now it's July
I finally got it off
And my girlfriend cried, YOU GOT STINK-FOOT!
Stink-foot, darlin'

Your Stink-foot
Puts a hurt on my nose
Stink-foot, stink-foot, I ain't lyin'
Can you rinse it off, do you suppose?
(Here Fido, Fido, mpt, mpt, mpt, come here little puppy
Bring the slippers
Arf, arf, arf
(C-R-A-S-H)
Huhm, HAH, HAH, HAH...hmhmhm)
STINK!

Well then Fido got up off the floor, and he rolled over
And he looked me straight in the eye
And you know what he said?
"Once upon a time, somebody say to me"
This is the dog talkin' now
"What is your, conceptual, continuity?"
"Well I told 'em right then", Fido said
"It should be easy to see
"The crux of the biscuit
Is the apostrophe"
Well you know, the man that was talking to the dog
Looked at the dog, and he said
Sort of staring in disbelief
"You can't say that"
He said
"It doesn't, and you can't, I won't, and it don't
It hasn't, it isn't, it even ain't, and it shouldn't
It couldn't"
He told him, "No, no, no"
I told him, "Yes, yes, yes"
I said, "I do it all the time
Ain't this boogie a mess"?

The poodle bites, the poodle chews it
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher




Back to: Frank Zappa


Performed By: Frank Zappa
Genre(s): Jazz fusion, progressive rock
Producer(s): Frank Zappa
Length: 32:56
Released: March 22nd, 1974
Year: 1974

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