Saturday, March 25, 2006

 

Frank Zappa, where art thou?

A man ahead of his time: Frank Zappa wrote these lyrics in 1980.

Whoever we are
Wherever we’re from
We shoulda noticed by now
Our behavior is dumb
And if our chances
Expect to improve
It’s gonna take a lot more
Than tryin’ to remove
The other race
Or the other whatever
From the face
Of the planet altogether

They call it the earth
Which is a dumb kinda name
But they named it right
’cause we behave the same...
We are dumb all over
Dumb all over,
Yes we are
Dumb all over,
Near ’n far
Dumb all over,
Black ’n white
People, we is not wrapped tight

Nurds on the left
Nurds on the right
Religous fanatics
On the air every night
Sayin’ the bible
Tells the story
Makes the details
Sound real gory
’bout what to do
If the geeks over there
Don’t believe in the book
We got over here

You can’t run a race
Without no feet
’n pretty soon
There won’t be no street
For dummies to jog on
Or doggies to dog on
Religous fanatics
Can make it be all gone
(I mean it won’t blow up
’n disappear
It’ll just look ugly
For a thousand years...)

You can’t run a country
By a book of religion
Not by a heap
Or a lump or a smidgeon
Of foolish rules
Of ancient date
Designed to make
You all feel great
While you fold, spindle
And mutilate
Those unbelievers
From a neighboring state

To arms! to arms!
Hooray! that’s great
Two legs ain’t bad
Unless there’s a crate
They ship the parts
To mama in
For souvenirs: two ears (get down!)
Not his, not hers, (but what the hey? )
The good book says:
(it gotta be that way!)
But their book says:
Revenge the crusades...
With whips ’n chains
’n hand grenades...
Two arms? two arms?
Have another and another
Our God says:
There ain’t no other!
Our God says
It’s all okay!
Our God says
This is the way!

It says in the book:
Burn ’n destroy...
’n repent, ’n redeem
’n revenge, ’n deploy
’n rumble thee forth
To the land of the unbelieving scum on the other side
’cause they don’t go for what’s in the book
’n that makes ’em bad
So verily we must choppeth them up
And stompeth them down
Or rent a nice french bomb
To poof them out of existance
While leaving their real estate just where we need it
To use again
For temples in which to praise our god
(cause he can really take care of business!)

And when his humble tv servant
With humble white hair
And humble glasses
And a nice brown suit
And maybe a blond wife who takes phone calls
Tells us our God says
It’s okay to do this stuff
Then we gotta do it,
’cause if we don’t do it,
We ain’t gwine up to hebbin!
(depending on which book you’re using at the
Time...can’t use theirs... it don’t work
...it’s all lies...gotta use mine...)
Ain’t that right?
That’s what they say
Every night...
Every day...
Hey, we can’t really be dumb
If we’re just following god’s orders
Hey, let’s get serious...
God knows what he’s doin’
He wrote this book here
An’ the book says:
He made us all to be just like him,
So...
If we’re dumb...
Then God is dumb...
(an’ maybe even a little ugly on the side)


And then he write this in 1988:

There’s an ugly little wasel ’bout three-foot nine
Face puffed up from cryin’ ’n lyin’
’cause her sweet little hubby’s
Suckin’ prong part time
(in the name of the lord)

Get a clue, little shrew
Oh yeah, oh yeah
Jesus thinks you’re a jerk

Did he really choose tammy to do his work?
Robertson says that he’s the one
Oh he sure is,
If armageddon
Is your idea of family fun,
An’ he’s got some planned for you!
(now, tell me that ain’t true)

Now, what if jimbo’s slightly gay,
Will pat let jimbo get away?
Everything we’ve heard him say
Indicated that jim must pay,
(and it just might hurt a bit)
But keep that money rollin’ in,
’cause pat and naughty jimbo
Can’t get enough of it

Perhaps it’s their idea
Of an affirmative action plan
To give white trash a ’special break’;
Well, they took those jeezo-bucks and ran
To the bank! to the bank! to the bank! to the bank!
And every night we can hear them thank
Their buddy, up above
For sending down his love
(while you all smell the glove)

Jim and pat should take a pole
(right up each saintly glory-hole),
With tar and feathers too --
Just like they’d love to do to you

(’cause they think you are bad --
And they are very mad)

’cause some folks don’t want prayer in school!

(we’d need an ark to survive the drool
Of micro-publicans, raised on hate,
And ’jimbo-jimbo’ when they graduate)

Conviced they are ’the chosen ones’ --
And all their parents carry guns,
And hold them cards in the n.r.a.
(with their fingers on the triggers
When they kneel and pray)

With a ku-klux muu-muu
In the back of the truck,
If you ain’t born again,
They wanna mess you up, screamin’:
’no abortion, no-siree!’
’life’s too precious, can’t you see!’
(what’s that hangin’ from the neighbor’s tree?
Why, it looks like ’colored folks’ to me --
Would they do that...seriously? )

Imagine if you will
A multi-millionaire television evangelist,
Saved from korean combat duty by his father, a u.s. senator

Studied law --
But is not qualified to practice it

Father of a ’love child’
Who, in adulthood, hosts the remnants
Of papa’s religious propaganda program

Claims not to be a ’faith healer’,
But has, in the past,
Dealt stearnly with everything from hemorrhoids to hurricanes

Involved with funding for a ’secret war’ in central america
Claiming ronald reagan and oliver north as close friends

Involved in suspicous ’tax-avoidance schemes’,
(under investigation for 16 months by the i.r.s.)

Claims to be a man of god;
Currenty seeking the united states presidency,
Hoping we will all follow him into --
The twilight zone

What if pat gets in the white house,
And suddenly --
The rights of ’certain people’ disappear
Mysteriously?

Now, wouldn’t that sort of qualify
As an american tragedy?
(especially if he covers it up, sayin’
’jesus told it to me!’)

I hope we never see that day,
In the land of the free --
Or someday will we?
Will we?

And if you don’t know by now,
The truth of what I’m tellin’ you,
Then, surely I have failed somehow --

And jesus will think I’m a jerk, just like you --
If you let those tv preachers
Make a monkey out of you!

I said:
’jesus will think you’re a jerk’
And it would be true!

There’s an old rugged cross
In the land of cutton --
It’s still burnin’ on somebody’s lawn
And it still smells rotten

Jim and tammy!
Oh, baby!
You gotta go!
You really got to go!

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