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letra de punky's whips (live) - frank zappa

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fz: in today’s rapidly changing world, rock groups appear every fourteen or fifteen minutes, utilizing some new promotional device. some of these devices have been known to leave irreparable scars on the minds of foolish young consumers. one such case is seated before you: little skinny terry ted bozzio, our cute little drummer [that’s me!]. terry recently fell in love with a publicity photo of a boy named punky meadows [oh punky!] lead guitar player from a group called “angel.” in the photograph, punky was seen with a beautiful shiny hairdo, in a semi-profile, which emphasized the pooched-out succulence of his insolent, pouting rectus! the sight of which drove the helpless young drummer mad with desire!

bozzio:
i can’t stand the way he pouts
’cause he might not be pouting for me!
(pouting for you, you freaking sailor?)
you mean
you mean he’s not…he’s not pouting…
he’s not pouting for me?
his hair’s so shiny and it’s done real nice
’til i squirm with ecstasy

punky, punky, give me your lips to die on!

oh punky, isn’t it romantic?

punky, punky, give me your lips
to die on…i promise not to come in your mouth!
punky, punky, your album’s the sh-ts!
it’s all wrong!

i ain’t really queer
but if he ever got near
steven tyler would pay to see!
pay to see!

punky’s lips, punky’s lips
his hair’s so shiny
i love his hips!
i love his t–th and his gums and such!
punky
you’re too much

the boys of my thoughts in my lonely teenage room!

he’s been havin’ a rash
(no sh-t!)
that keeps the girls away
skin doom
(skin doom)
is what the doctors all say
yeah and that makes me wonder
i wonder what punky is rehearsing today
i’ll just go over, and hear him play
his hair is so pretty…i’d like to bite his neck
i’ve heard a rumor he’s more fluid than jeff beck
but i ain’t queer
i ain’t g-y
(he’s a little fond of chiffon in a wrist array-ee-ay-ee-ay)
a wrist array-ee-ay
(that’s all that is, i swear!)

punky’s lips, punky’s lips!
oh! oh, i dig his hair while eatin’ dunk-y chips
yeah! i love his blink and his blank-blank-blank
why, maybe he’d like to yank my crank?
yank it punky!
yank it faster!
yank it harder!
yank it all nite long!
come on punky!
get funky!

i ain’t queer
(no no no no)
i ain’t g-y
(no no no no)
(he’s a little fond of chiffon in a wrist array-he-he-he-hey)
a wrist array-hey
and then he told me now:
i ain’t queer
i ain’t g-y
(he’s a little fond of chiffon in a wrist array-ay-hay)

i-i
lord, i-i’m fo-fo-o-o-nd
of chiffo-on
in a wrist array-ee-ay-hey
i swear
i-i-i-i-i-i-i
i’m a little fo-o-nd
of chiffo-on
in a wrist array-hey-ay-ay-hey

come on punky! punky punky! punky punky! punky punky punky!

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