Brown Shoes Don't Make It - Frank Zappa
Frank zappa (lead guitar, vocals) Ike willis (rhythm guitar, vocals) Ray white (rhythm guitar, vocals) Steve vai (rhythm guitar, vocals) Warren cucurullo (rhythm guitar, vocals) Denny walley (slide guitar, vocals) Tommy mars (keyboards, vocals) Peter wolf (keyboards) Bob harris (keyboards, trumpet, vocals) Ed mann (percussion) Arthur barrow (bass, vocals) Vinnie colaiuta (drums) Brown shoes don't make it Brown shoes don't make it Quit school, why fake it Brown shoes don't make it Tv dinner by the pool Watch your brother grow a beard Got another year of school You're okay, he's too weird Be a plumber He's a bummer He's a bummer every summer Be a loyal plastic robot For a world that doesn't care That's right Smile at every ugly Shine on your shoes and cut your hair Be a jerk - go to work Be a jerk - go to work Be a jerk - go to work Be a jerk - go to work Do your job, and do it right Life's a ball Tv tonight Do you love it Do you hate it There it is The way you made it A world of secret hungers Perverting the men who make your laws Every desire is hidden away In a drawer in a desk by a naugahyde chair On a rug where they walk and drool Past the girls in the office Hratche-plche, hratche-plche Hratche-plche... We see in the back Of the city hall mind The dream of a girl about thirteen Off with her clothes and into a bed Where she tickles his fancy All night long His wife's attending an orchid show She squealed for a week to get him to go But back in the bed his teen-age queen Is rocking and rolling and acting obscene Baby baby... Baby baby... Gimme them cakes now, uh! If I do, I'm gonna lose my... And he loves it, he loves it It curls up his toes She wipes his fat neck And it lights up his nose But he cannot be fooled Old city hall fred She's nasty, she's nasty She digs it in bed That's right Do it again, ha And do it some more Hey, that does it, by golly And she's nasty for sure Nasty nasty nasty Nasty nasty nasty Only thirteen, and she knows how to nasty She's a dirty young mind, corrupted Corroded Well she's thirteen today And I hear she gets loaded If she were my daughter, i'd... What would you do, frankie? Well, if she were my daughter, i'd... What would you do, frankie? If she were my daughter, i'd... What would you do, frankie? Check this out Smother my daughter in chocolate syrup And strap her on again, oh baby Smother that girl in chocolate syrup And strap her on again She's my teen-age baby She turns me on I'd like to make her do a nasty On the white house lawn Smother my daughter in chocolate syrup And boogie 'til the cows come home Time to go home Madge is on the phone Gotta meet the gurneys and a dozen grey attorneys Tv dinner by the pool I'm so glad I finished school Life is such a ball I run the world from city hall
Artist: Frank Zappa
Title: Brown Shoes Don't Make It