|
Zappa Frank |
|
Bongo Fury |
|
200 Years Old |
|
I was sittin' in a breakfast room in Allentown, Pennsylvania, six |
|
o'clock in the morning, got up to early, it was a terrible |
|
mistake... sittin' there face-to-face with a 75 cent glass of orange |
|
juice about as big as my finger and a bowl of horribly foreshortened |
|
cornflakes, and I said to myself: "This is the life!"... |
|
She's 200 years old, |
|
so mean, she couldn't grow no lips |
|
Boy, she'd be in trouble if she tried to grow a mustache |
|
She's two hundred years old |
|
Squattin' down & pockin' up |
|
In front of the juke box |
|
just like she had True Religion.. BOY! |
|
She's two hundred years old |
|
Hoy!, hoy!, in 200 years, |
|
half of this, none of that, |
|
one.. fifty.. oh squattin', |
|
Yeah-ah, ain't she got |
|
Oohhh, she got religion now, boy. |
|
Oohhhh, ?? ?? ?? |
|
Oohhhh, she's just mean, |
|
she just, she just can't grow no lips. |
|
Squat.. down, so mean she can't grow no lips. |
|
200 years old, so mean she can't grow no lips. |
