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Diskografije + Domaci lyrics: 0-9 A B C D E F G H I J K L Lj M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z

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07. Maj 2005, 11:50:21
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Zodijak Gemini
Pol Muškarac
Poruke Odustao od brojanja
Zastava 44°49′N - 20°29′E
mob
Apple iPhone 6s
ANY WAY THE WIND BLOWS   

Ray collins (lead vocals)
Frank zappa (lead guitar)
Roy estrada (bass)
Jimmy carl black (drums)
Arthur tripp (drums)
Ian underwood (piano, alto saxophone)
Don preston (piano)
Motorhead sherwood (baritone saxophone, tambourine)
Bunk gardner (tenor saxophone)

Anyway the wind blows is fine with me
Anyway the wind blows, it don’t matter to me
’cause I’m thru with the fussin’ and fightin’ with you
I went out and found a woman who is gonna be true
She makes me oh so happy now, I’m never ever blue
Anyway the wind blows is fine with me
Anyway the wind blows it don’t matter to me
’cause she treats me like she loves me
And she never makes me cry
I’m gonna stick with her till the day I die
She’s not like your baby, she would never ever lie
Anyway the wind blows, is fine with me
Anyway the wind blows, it don’t matter to me
Now I’m going to go away and leave you standin’ at the door
I’ll tell you this baby, I won’t be back any more
’cause you don’t even know what love is for
Anyway the wind blows, anyway the wind blows
Anyway the wind blows, anyway the wind blows
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Zodijak Gemini
Pol Muškarac
Poruke Odustao od brojanja
Zastava 44°49′N - 20°29′E
mob
Apple iPhone 6s
WHY DOES IT HURT WHEN I PEE?

Frank zappa (lead guitar, vocals)
Warren cucurullo (rhythm guitar, vocals)
Denny walley (slide guitar, vocals)
Ike willis (lead vocals)
Peter wolf (keyboards)
Tommy mars (keyboards)
Arthur barrow (bass, vocals)
Ed mann (percussion)
Vinnie colaiuta (drums)
Jeff (tenor saxophone)
Marginal chagrin (baritone saxophone)
Stumuk (bass saxophone)
Dale bozzio (vocals)
Al malkin (vocals)
Craig steward (harmonica)

Shortly after his liaison with the taco stand lady, joe makes a horrible discovery...

Joe:
Why does it hurt when I pee?
Why does it hurt when I pee?
I don’t want no doctor
To stick no needle in me
Why does it hurt when I pee?
I got it from the toilet seat
I got it from the toilet seat
It jumped right up
’n’ grabbed my meat
Got it from the toilet seat
My balls feel like a pair of maracas
My balls feel like a pair of maracas
Oh God I probably got the
Gon-o-ka-ka-khackus!
My balls feel like a pair of maracas
Ai-ee-ai-ee-ahhhh!
Why does it
Why does it
Why does it
Why does it hurt...when i
Peeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee eeee?
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Zodijak Gemini
Pol Muškarac
Poruke Odustao od brojanja
Zastava 44°49′N - 20°29′E
mob
Apple iPhone 6s
TITTIES ’N’ BEER

Terry bozzio (drums)
Roy estrada (vocals, bass)
Adrian belew (guitar)
Ed mann (percussion)
Patrick o’hearn (bass)
Tommy mars (keyboards)
Peter wolf (keyboards)

It was the blackest night!
There was no moon in sight!
(you know the stars ain’t shinin’
’cause the sky’s too tight)
I heard the scary wind!
I seen some ugly trees!
There was a werewolf honkin’,
’long the side of me!

I’m mean ’n I’m bad, (y’know I ain’t no sissy)
Got a big-titty girly by the name of ’chrissy’
Talkin’ about her ’n my bike ’n me...
’n this ride up the mountain of mystery, (mystery)

(how ’re you doin’? )

I noticed even the crickets
Acted weird up here
And so I figured I might
Just drink a little beer
I said, gimme summa that what yer suckin’ on...
But there was no reply
’cause she was gone!

Where’s those titties I like so well,
’n’ my goddam beer!
Is what I started to yell, then I heard this noise
Like a crunchin’ twig, ’n up jumped the devil!
(he’s about this big!)

He had a red suit on
An’ a widow’s peak
An’ then a pointed tail
’n like a sulphur reek,
Yes, it was him awright,
I swear I knowed it was!
He had some human flesh
Stuck underneath his claws
You know, it looked to me
Like it was titty skin!
I said, you son-of-a-bitch!
(’cause I was mad at him!)
He just got out his floss
’n started cleanin’ his fang
So I shot him with my shooter,
Said: bang! bang! bang!

Then the sucker just laughed ’n said: put it away!
You know, I ate her all up...now what you
Gonna say?
You ate my chrissy?
Yeah! titties ’n all!
Well what about the beer then?
Now, were the cans this tall?
Even her boots?
Would I lie to you?
Shit, you musta been hungry!
Yeah, this is true.
Don’t they pay you good for the
Stuff that you do?
Well, you know, I can’t complain when the checks come through...
Well I want my chrissy,
Oh yeah?
’n I want my beer
Hah!
So you just barf it back up!
Now, devil, do you hear?
Look:
Blow it out your ass, motorcycle man!
I mean, I am the devil, do you understand?
Just what will you give me for your
Titties and beer?
I suppose you noticed this little
Contract here...
Yer goddam right, you son-of-a-whore!
Don’t call me that!
That’s about the only reason
I learned writin’ for!
Gimme that paper! bet yer horns I’ll sign!
Because I need a beer, ’n it’s titty-
Squeezin’ time!
Man, you can’t fool me! you ain’t that bad!
Oh yeah?
Why you shoulda seen some of the souls that I’ve had!
There was milhous nixon ’n agnew too!
’n both of those suckers was worse ’n you!
Let’s make a deal if you think
That’s true
I mean, you’re supposed to be the devil so...whatcha
Gonna do?
Heh?

Now hold on just a second...
You wanna make a deal with me hah?
Yeah!
Well ah, I don’t know man, you know...
I just don’t know about this...
What?
See, cause i...
Listen, you’re...are you losing your nerve?
No man, it ain’t got nothin’ to do with nerve...
You’re supposed to be the devil!
It’s got to do...
You’re supposed to be bad!
It’s got to do with style, fool!
I don’t know if you’ve the right style to get into hell,
You know...
Well, actually, to tell you...tell you the honest to god
Truth,
I’m very short on style as a matter of fact...
Yeah, I know...that’s...that’s what makes me wonder
But I have...i, I think I have something that
You may be interested in...
What is that?
You can have my soul
It’s a mean little sucker
’bout a thousand years old
But once you gets it
You can’t give it back
You gotta keep it forever
An’ that’s a natural fact!
Ooh wee!
Do you read me devil?
Oh yeah!
What? am I supposed to be scared, man?
Oh yeah, reety, aw-righty!
Oh yeah, that’s real tough!
I bet you’re real bad!
Listen fool, you’ve got to prove to me that you’re rough
Enough to get into hell
That you’ve got the style enough to get into hell
So start talkin’...
Alright, lemme tell ya somethin’
Alright!
I’ll prove to you that I’m bad enough to go to hell
Yeah!
Because I have been through it!
Yeah!
I have seen it!
Yeah!
It has happened to me!
Yeah!
Remember, I was signed with warner brothers
For eight fuckin’ years!!!
Tell me about it!
Now you’re talkin’ about something!
Now how bad is that?
That sounds good to me, motherfucker!
So move right along
Tell me what your interests are, you know...
If we’re gonna come to some kind of agreement,
I’ve got to know what you’re all about, you know...
’cause I don’t know if you’re the right type for the...
For the place, you know
Look...lemme tell you what my problem really is, you see
Ok...
My problem is that I don’t belong anywhere
Aha...
You see... I don’t even belong where you are, you see
I hope not!
I, I’m a simple person, you know
I have very small desires in life
Titties ’n beer, you know
No! what?
Titties ’n beer!
No! no man, you’re joking...
Titties ’n beer, titties ’n beer, titties ’n beer...
What? no! no please... no! not that! oh no man, no!
Titties ’n beer, titties ’n beer, titties ’n beer...
No! no! no! no! no! not titties ’n beer!
Oh I can’t stand titties ’n beer!...
Titties ’n beer, titties ’n beer, titties ’n beer...
(I’m in you! I’m in you!)
Oh no! no! no! wait...
Ah! look at this! what am I gonna do with this thing?
...wait, wait, please no!
Hey! look at this!

No! don’t sign it! give me time to think!
...hold on a second, boy, ’cause...that’s
Magic ink!

Then the devil barfed
’n out jumped my girl
They heard the titties plop-ploppin’
All around the world, she said:

I got three beers ’n a fist fulla downs,
An’ I’m gonna get ripped, so fuck
You clowns!

Then she gave us the finger!
(it was rigid ’n stiff)
That’s when the devil, she farted
An’ she went right over the cliff!
The devil was mad!
(I took off to my pad)
I swear I do declare!
How did she get back there?
I swear I do declare!
How did she get back there?
I swear I do declare!
How did she get back there?
I swear I do declare!
How did she get back there?

Alright!
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Zodijak Gemini
Pol Muškarac
Poruke Odustao od brojanja
Zastava 44°49′N - 20°29′E
mob
Apple iPhone 6s
BOBBY BROWN

Frank zappa (lead guitar, vocals)
Adrian belew (rhythm guitar, vocals)
Tommy mars (keyboards, vocals)
Peter wolf (keyboards)
Patrick o’hearn (bass, vocals)
Terry bozzio (drums, vocals)
Ed mann (percussion, vocals)
Napoleon murphy brock (background vocals)
Andre lewis (background vocals)
Randy thornton (background vocals)
Davey moire (background vocals)

Hey there, people, I’m bobby brown
They say I’m the cutest boy in town
My car is fast, my teeth is shiney
I tell all the girls they can kiss my heinie
Here I am at a famous school
I’m dressin’ sharp ’n’ i’m
Actin’ cool
I got a cheerleader here wants to help with my paper
Let her do all the work ’n’ maybe later I’ll rape her

Oh God I am the american dream
I do not think I’m too extreme
An’ I’m a handsome sonofabitch
I’m gonna get a good job ’n’ be real rich

(get a good
Get a good
Get a good
Get a good job)

Women’s liberation
Came creepin’ across the nation
I tell you people I was not ready
When I fucked this dyke by the name of freddie
She made a little speech then,
Aw, she tried to make me say when
She had my balls in a vice, but she left the dick
I guess it’s still hooked on, but now it shoots too quick

Oh God I am the american dream
But now I smell like vaseline
An’ I’m a miserable sonofabitch
Am I a boy or a lady...i don’t know which

(I wonder wonder
Wonder wonder)

So I went out ’n’ bought me a leisure suit
I jingle my change, but I’m still kinda cute
Got a job doin’ radio promo
An’ none of the jocks can even tell I’m a homo
Eventually me ’n’ a friend
Sorta drifted along into s&m
I can take about an hour on the tower of power
’long as I gets a little golden shower

Oh God I am the american dream
With a spindle up my butt till it makes me scream
An’ I’ll do anything to get ahead
I lay awake nights sayin’, thank you, fred!
Oh god, oh god, I’m so fantastic!
Thanks to freddie, I’m a sexual spastic
And my name is bobby brown
Watch me now, I’m goin down,
And my name is bobby brown
Watch me now, I’m goin down, etc.
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Zodijak Gemini
Pol Muškarac
Poruke Odustao od brojanja
Zastava 44°49′N - 20°29′E
mob
Apple iPhone 6s
CATHOLIC GIRLS

Frank zappa (lead guitar, vocals)
Warren cucurullo (rhythm guitar, vocals)
Denny walley (slide guitar, vocals)
Ike willis (lead vocals)
Peter wolf (keyboards)
Tommy mars (keyboards)
Arthur barrow (bass, vocals)
Ed mann (percussion)
Vinnie colaiuta (drums)
Jeff (tenor saxophone)
Marginal chagrin (baritone saxophone)
Stumuk (bass saxophone)
Dale bozzio (vocals)
Al malkin (vocals)
Craig steward (harmonica)

A festive cyo party with crepe paper streamers, contestants for the broom dance, the hokey pokey, baked goods, & father riley making sure the lights don’t go down too low...

Father riley and various party goers:
Catholic girls
With a tiny little mustache
Catholic girls
Do you know how they go?
Catholic girls
In the rectory basement
Father riley’s a fairy
But it don’t bother mary
Catholic girls
At the cyo
Catholic girls
Do you know how they go?
Catholic girls
There can be no replacement
How do they go, after the show?

Joe:
All the way
That’s the way they go
Every day
And none of their mamas ever seem to know
Hip-hip-hooray
For all the class they show
There’s nothing like a catholic girl
At the cyo
When they learn to blow...

Father riley:
They’re learning to blow
All the catholic boys!

Mary:
Warren cuccurullo...

Father riley:
Catholic boys!

Mary:
Kinda young, kinda wow!

Father riley:
Catholic boys!

Mary:
Vinnie colaiuta...

Chorus:
Where are they now?
Did they all take the vow?

Father riley:
Catholic girls

Warren:
Carmenita scarfone!

Father riley:
Catholic girls

Officer butzis:
Hey! she gave me vd!

Father riley:
Catholic girls!

Warren:
Toni carbone!

Chorus:
With a tongue like a cow
She could make you go wow!

Joe:
Vd vowdy vootie
Right away
That’s the way they go
Every day
Whenever their mamas take them to a show
Matinee
Pass the popcorn please
There’s nothing like a catholic girl
With her hand in the box
When she’s on her knees

Larry:
She was on her knees,
My little catholic girl

Chorus:
In a little white dress
Catholic girls
They never confess
Catholic girls
I got one for a cousin
I love how they go
So send me a dozen
Catholic girls
Ooooooh!
Catholic girls
Ooooooh!
(etc.)

Central scrutinizer:
This is the central scrutinizer...
Joe had a girl friend named mary.
She used to go the church club every week.
They’d meet each other there
Hold hands
And think pure thoughts
But one night at the social club meeting
Mary didn’t show up...
She was sucking cock backstage at the armory
In order to get a pass
To see some big rock group for free...
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Zodijak Gemini
Pol Muškarac
Poruke Odustao od brojanja
Zastava 44°49′N - 20°29′E
mob
Apple iPhone 6s
DON’T EAT THE YELLOW SNOW

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)

Dreamed I was an eskimo
Frozen wind began to blow
Under my boots and around my toes
The frost that bit the ground below
It was a hundred degrees below zero...

And my mama cried
And my mama cried
Nanook, a-no-no
Nanook, a-no-no
Don’t be a naughty eskimo
Save your money, don’t go to the show

Well I turned around and I said oh, oh oh
Well I turned around and I said oh, oh oh
Well I turned around and I said ho, ho
And the northern lights commenced to glow
And she said, with a tear in her eye
Watch out where the huskies go, and don’t you eat that yellow snow
Watch out where the huskies go, and don’t you eat that yellow snow
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Jet set burekdzija


CS Maniac

Zodijak Sagittarius
Pol Muškarac
Poruke 5699
Zastava Novi Sad Srbija
OS
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mob
SonyEricsson k300i
200 Years Old Lyrics

I was sittin' in a breakfast room in Allentown, Pennsylvania,
six o'clock in the morning, got up too 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 two hundred 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
Like she had true religion, boy
Like she had true religion

She's two hundred years old
Hoy hoy, 200 years old
Half of this, none of that,
One-fifty oh squattin'
Yeah-ah, ain't she got
Religion now, boy
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CS Maniac

Zodijak Sagittarius
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A Little Green Rosetta Lyrics

Act III

(after the song ends)
This is the CENTRAL SCRUTINIZER... As you can see, MUSIC can get you
pretty fucked up...Take a tip from Joe, do like he did, hock your imaginary guitar
and get a good job...Joe did, and he's a happy guy now, on the day shift at
the Utility Muffin Research Kitchen, arrogantly twisting the sterile canvas snoot of
a fully-charged icing anointment utensil. And every time a nice little muffin comes
by on the belt, he poots forth... And if this doesn't convince you that MUSIC
causes BIG TROUBLE...then maybe I should turn off my plastic' megaphone and
sing the last song on the album in my regular voice...

SCENE EIGHTEEN
A LITTLE GREEN ROSETTA

CENTRAL SCRUTINIZER:
A little green rosetta
A little green rosetta
A little green rosetta
A little green rosetta
You'll make a muffin betta
With a green rosetta
A little green rosetta
A tiny green rosetta
A little green rosetta
A little green rosetta
A little green rosetta
A little green rosetta
You'll make a muffin betta
Betta
It's really getting betta
It's betta, it's betta
With a green rosetta

Green rositti
A little green rositti
It's really, really meaty
A little green rositti
Betta, betta,
(Hey, really out there...really good)
It's really getting betta
It's betta, it's betta
With a green rosetta
Setta, setta
(Good God, give the drummer some)
Green rosetta
A little green rosetta
A little green rosetta
A little green rosetta
(Setta, setta, setta, etc....)
(Make a muffin, make a muffin, make a muffin,
Make a muffin betta, make a muffin betta, etc....)
With a green rosetta
A little green rosetta
(Etc....)

Good God! You're really jammin ! Now the Reggae version, hey, for the People in
the Third World... we haven't forgotten anybody on this song.. .for all of you French
people...who think that you re outta sight... And for the people in Spain...who think
the French people are where its at... And for the people in Mongolia who always
wanted to go to Spain for a vacation... And for those of you in Taiwan who got chumped,
this chorus is for you: (Rang Tang Ding Dong, I am the Japanese Sandman...
Take eight...)

Green rosetta
Green rosetta
A little green rosetta
(Against the Reggae beat, though... No, it's still Reggae, but it s all backwards)

A little green rosetta
A little green rosetta
A little green rosetta
You'll make a muffin betta (Etc., etc., etc...)

Now you see, some places in the Third World it might be difficult to dance to this because
the kerosene record player is not a very efficient device.. .And a lot of times they run out of,
they run out of spunk right in the middle of the chorus... Causing the song to sound like this...

A little green rosetta

However we continue in spite of the fact that the fuel may be low on your record player.
We suggest that in places like the Fourth World where things are really tough that you
keep the record player going by rubbing two sticks together. And if all else fails, throw
the record away... build your own green rosetta...try this recipe: Well start with a lump of
grass... the grass bone connected to the ankle bone...the knee bone connected to the
wishbone...and then everybody moves to New York and goes to a party with Warren.
Hey! And we've flown in, at great expense, (triple scale, no less, ladies and gentlemen),
Steve Gad's clone to play the out-chorus on this song...lies really outa-site, in spite of
thefact that the click track is totally irrelevant to what he's doing now. I in listening to
the click, yes I'm suffering with the click track right now...this guy is totally out of sync with it,
but what the fuck. Ed Mann will call him up later, show him the sign. Okay Vinnie, where
is five?

They're pretty good musicians
They re pretty good musicians
They're pretty good musicians
They're pretty good musicians
But it don't make no difference
If they're good musicians
Because anybody who would buy this record
Doesn't give a fuck if there's good musicians
On it
Because this is a stupid song
AND THAT'S THE WAY I LIKE IT
A little green rosetta
A little green rosetta
A little green rosetta
A little green rosetta
You make a muffin betta
With a little green rosetta
A little green rosetta
Rosetta, rosetta, rosetta
(etc., etc., etc....)
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A Token Of My Extreme Lyrics

Act II

SCENE NINE
A TOKEN OF MY EXTREME

Arriving at L. Ron Hoover's modernistic office / cathedral / ware-house /
condominium complex, Joe is greeted by a pre-recorded message and
a dramatically illuminated image on a wall-sized TV screen...

L. RON HOOVER:
Welcome to the First Church of Appliantology!
The WHITE ZONE is for loading and unloading only!

Don't you be
Tarot-fied
It's just a token of my extreme
Don't you be
Tarot-fied
It's just a token of my extreme
Don't you never try to look behind my eyes
You don t wanna know what they have seen
Don't you never try to look behind my eyes
You don't wanna know what they have seen

JOE: (thinking to himself)
Some people think
That if they go too far
They'll never get hack
To where the rest of them are
I might be crazy
But there's one thing I know
You might be surprised
At what you find when ya go!

And thus, having rationalized his expedition to L. Ron's modernistic office /
cathedral / warehouse / condominium complex, JOE seeks The Answer to
his problem...

JOE:
Oh oh oh
Mystical Advisor
What is my problem, tell me
Can you see?

L. RON HOOVER:
Well, you have nothing to fear, my son!
You are a Latent Appliance Fetishist, It appears to me!

JOE:
That all seems very, very strange
I never craved a toaster
Or a color T. V.

L. RON HOOVER:
A Latent Appliance Fetishist
Is a person who refuses to admit to his or herself
That sexual gratification can only be achieved
Through the use of MACHINES... Get the picture?

JOE:
Are you telling me
I should come out of the closet now Mr. Ron?

L. RON HOOVER:
No, my son!
You must go into THE CLOSET
And you will have
A lot of fun!
That's where they all live
So if you want an
Appliance to love you
You'll have to go in there
N' get you one

JOE:
Well...that seems simple enough...

L. RON HOOVER:
Yes, but if you want a really GOOD one,
You'll have to learn a foreign language...

JOE:
German, for instance?

L. RON HOOVER:
That's right...
A lot of really cute ones come from over there!
(Fifty bucks, please)

And a cheerful group of Appliantologists dance into the room wearing
aluminum foil lab smocks, lock arms in a circle around JOE, making
sure he pays in full, all the while singing with L. RON as he delivers
nis final instructions...

L. RON HOOVER:
If you been
Mod-O-fied,
It's an illusion,
an yer in between
Don't you be
Tarot-fied,
It's just a lot of nothin,'
So what can it mean?
If you been
Mod-O-fied,
It's an illusion,
an yer in between
Don't you be
Tarot-fied,
It's just a lot of nothin,
So what can it mean?
(etc., etc., etc.)

JOE leaves the First Church of Appliantology and sets out to try L. RON s expensive advice

CENTRAL SCRUTINIZER:
This is the CENTRAL SCRUTINIZER... Joe has just learned to speak
German Now, get this, heres why he did it! He's gonna go to this club on
the other side of town, it's called THE CLOSET...
And they got these Appliances in there that really go for a guy dressed up
like a housewife who can speak German (you know what I mean)... so
Joe's learned how to speak German, he goes in this place and he sees
these little Kitchen Machineries dancing around with each other, and he
sees this one...that looks like it's a cross between an industrial vacuum
cleaner and a chrome piggy bank with marital aids stuck all over its body...
it's really exciting...and when he sees it, he BURSTS INTO SONG...
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Advance Romance Lyrics

No more credit
From the liquor store
Suit is all dirty, boy
Shoes is all wore
Tired and lonely, my
Heart is all sore
Advance romance
I can't stand it no more

Told me she loved me
I believed what she said
Took me for a sucker, boy
All corn-fed
Next thing I knew
She had a bolt on the door
Advance romance
I can't use it no more

She took George's watch
Like they always do
(It was a Timex, too!)
No more money, boy
I shoulda knew
The way she do me, boy
She might do you, too
Advance romance
People I am through!

Potato-head Bobby
was a friend of mine
Open three of his eyes
In the food stamp line
Open four of his eyes
In the food stamp line
Open five of his eyes
In the food stamp line
Open six of his yes
In the food stamp line
Said she might be a devil
But she sure was fine
Advance romance
He wanna try it one time

Later that night
He drop on by
Told her all he wanna do
Was step up and say "Hi"
Half an hour later
She had frenched his fry
Advance romance
Bobby, say good-bye
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