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letra de chrissy puked twice [ziny- ii] - frank zappa

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 scarey 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

it was 11 o’clock upon a friday night
you know that her and me was feeling outta’ sight
we had twenty reds and a big ol’ pile o’ weed
you know we drank some wine and then she lsd’d

well, chrissy puked twice and jumped on my bike
she yelled, “fire it up, because you know what i like!”
she burned her leg on a tail-pipe then
and yelled, “sh-t-a-ree!,” and puked again

i noticed even the crickets
were actin’ weird up here
‘n 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 godd-mn 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 sweared 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 sonofab-tch!”
’cause i was mad at him
well 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:

terry:
oh, put it away . .
you know, i ate her all up . . . now what you gonna say?

fz:
you ate my chrissy?

terry:
titties ‘n all!

fz:
well, what about the beer then, boy?

terry:
ah . . . were the cans this tall?

fz:
even her boots?

terry:
would i lie to you?

fz:
sh-t, you musta been hungry!

terry:
yes, this is true

fz:
don’t they pay you good
for the stuff that you do?

terry:
well, you know
i can’t complain when the checks come through . .

fz:
well i want my chrissy
‘n i want my beer
so you just barf it back up
now, devil, do you hear?

terry:
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 . .

fz:
yer goddam right, you
son-of-a-wh0re

terry:
don’t call me that!

fz:
that’s about the only reason i learned writin’ for . .
gimme that paper . . . bet yer ass i will sign . .
because i need a beer
‘n it’s titty-squeezin’ time!

terry:
man, you can’t fool me . . . you ain’t that bad . .
i mean you shoulda seen some of the souls that i’ve had . .

fz:
oh, yeah?

terry:
why there was milhous nixon ‘n agnew, too . .
‘n both of those suckers was worse ‘n you . .

fz:
well, let’s make a deal if you think that’s true
i mean, you’re the devil so . .
whatcha gonna do?

terry: wait a minute, a tinge of doubt crosses my mind when you say that you want to make a deal with me
fz: that’s very, very true
terry: wait, you ain’t supposed to wanna make a deal with me
fz: ah, but i’m slightly different than your average customer, devil
terry: but, wait, but most people don’t want to make a deal with me. wha . .
fz: yeah . .
terry: what’s your story?
fz: well, most people are afraid of you, see? they don’t know how stupid you are—i happen to know that you jack off to a picture of punky meadows when you get home
terry: grrah . . . stupid . . . grrh . .
fz: you know, ever since that guy told you that he contained more fluid than jeff beck you’ve been tryin’ to outdo him. awright, look, i’m gonna say one thing to you—this may not register right away, but let me say this—leave your pickle alone for a couple of nights, you know what i mean? now, come on! i’m only interested in a couple of things . . . wait, is that a note for me? is somebody passing me a note? what does this say? “frank, please do me a favour, i can’t find a brother of mine, i could dig it if you could call him from stage. his name is dirty tom nomads, m.c.,” signed “thanks, bear” or “bean,” i can’t tell. well, if he’s out there, dirty tony de la nomads, m.c., get in touch with bean or bear . . . and as i was sayin’, devil, i’m an average sort of a person, i’m— you wouldn’t believe it, but, i’m very much like the people here in this audience tonight
terry: what?
fz: i think we definitely have something in common
terry: wait a minute, i thought you had funny things growing in your hair and all that other stuff, i thought, write weird music, you know, i thought . .
fz: listen . .
terry: . . . biker and everything, i mean, sh-t, you know?
fz: . . . listen carefully . .
terry: . . . big tittie chic that you just had out here with the camera, i mean, you know . .
fz: listen carefully to me, oh, devil . .
terry: uh-huh . .
fz: i’m only interested in two things
terry: yeah
fz: see if you can guess what they are
terry: i would think . . . uh . . . let’s see, maybe . . . uh . .
fz: well, i’ll give you . .
terry: stravinsky . . . and, uh . .
fz: i’ll give you two clues
terry: . . . let’s see . . . uh . .
fz: let go of your pickle
terry: what?
fz: let go of your pickle!
terry: i’m not holding my pickle
fz: well, who’s holding your pickle then?
terry: i don’t know . . . ha! she’s out in the audience. hey, dale, would you like to come up here and hold my pickle to satisfy this weird man out here on the stage?
fz: you’re probably wondering why we call it a pickle
ray: ha ha ha!
terry: oh, no . .
fz: i don’t— i hate, i hate to squeal on you, bozzio—i mean, devil—but, look, i’m only interested in two things
terry: now, wait a minute, all i have to say is, god help me! even though i have this, this f-cking mask on . .
fz: ha ha ha ha ha . . . ! listen, if you think that mask looks bad, you oughta see his pickle. i’m only interested in two things, that’s titties and beer, you know what i mean?
terry: what?
fz: yeah
terry: titties and beer?
fz: titties and beer, titties and beer, titties and beer, titties and beer, titties and beer, titties and beer, titties and beer, titties and beer . .
terry: (growling) whoa, i don’t know if you’re the right guy!
fz: . . . titties and beer, titties and beer, titties and beer . .

terry:
no! don’t sign it! give me time to think . .
i mean . .

fz:
alright!

terry:
hold on a second, boy . .
’cause that’s magic ink!

and then the devil let go of his pickle
‘n out jumped m’girl
they heard the titties plop-ploppin’
all around the world, she said:

“i got me three beers ‘n a fist fulla downs
an’ i’m gonna get ripped, so f-ck you clowns!”

then she gave us the finger
it was rigid ‘n stiff
that’s when the devil, he farted
an’ she went right over the cliff

(whoa . . . tinsel time!)

well, 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?
i swear i do declare!
how did she get back there?
i swear i do de . .

fz: awright . . . awright, that, that’s enough for the devil and his famous pickle. we’re goin’ to make another dramatic if, if somewhat . . . rickety segue into another song called “cruisin’ for burgers,” wait a minute . .

- frank zappa

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