jueves, 9 de junio de 2011

Magic Fingers - Frank Zappa & The Mothers

Oh, do you really wanna please me?
Howard: You know I do, baby
Mark: Well, tell me why you do it
I really wanna know
Howard: Oh, no, no, I wouldn't be right
For me to tell you tonight
Mark: You better tell me right away
Or I pack up and go!
Howard: Don't get mad
It ain't no big thing
Mark: You better tell me right away,
Don't you treat me cold
Well, there are a lot of reasons why I'd . . . I'd drag a girl such as yourself back to this . . . plastic hotel room and . . . rip you off for spare change to run a . . . to run a vibrating machine attached to this queen-size, bulk-purchase, kapok-infested, do-not-remove-tag-under-penalty-of-law type bed and . . . and make you take off all your little clothes . . . until you are nearly STARK RAVING NUDE! (Save for your chrome-with-heavy-duty-leather-thong Peace Medallion, heh . . . ) And make you assume a series of marginally erotic poses involving . . . a plastic chair and . . . an old guitar strap while I . . . did a wee-wee in your hair and . . . beat you with a pair of tennis shoes . . . I got from Jeff Beck

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