To Frank and the Mothers
You popped up in the mid-sixties
Just when you were supposed to
All grungified and snarky
Freaked out and hungry true
There weren’t no angels singing
There weren’t no pompous cheese
Just a lot of melted plastic
And some dying BRAIN POLICE
Motherly Love will drive you mad
Your groupies scream and cry
Baum didi, baum didi, baum didi baum
You know it’s all a lie
You made us all excited
I was working on my car
I showed you my new carburetor
But then you drove us all too far
Been checkin’ out the news
‘Til my eyeballs fail to see
And these troubles have been seeping
Out of every hole in me
So we’re watchin’ and we’re waitin’
And hopin’ for the best
But when it’ll really change
Is still anybody’s guess
But you’re free from all our troubles
And the lameness of this place
So now the only questions is
Do ya have the same old face?
But forget all that, we toast you
With a plastic cup, no less
Yes drink a toast to Zappa
We still think that you’re the best
Suzy Creamcheese would love to be on your Toast… New Cheese!
Long Live Frank in his highly ambient domain!
Is that Jesus on that slice of toast?
looks like charlie manson. he’s pretty much toast these days.
He was always pretty much toast, nonnie-noodle.
Okay, I admit I didn’t spend the time I should have researching the image before I buttered ‘n jammed it and munched it down; but I’m pretty sure it was Capt. Beefheart— Don Van Vliet— as there was a definite neo-primitive blues-iness undertone in the toast.
(But Zen gets points for attention to detail!)
(Those points and $3.50 will get you a small latte.)
awwww