Текст песни Frank Zappa - The Adventures of Greggery Peccary, слова песни Frank Zappa

Текст песни Frank Zappa - The Adventures of Greggery Peccary

Frank Zappa - The Adventures of Greggery Peccary слова песни

Frank zappa (guitar, vocals)George duke (keyboards, vocals)Bruce fowler (trombone)Tom fowler (bass)Chester thompson (drums)The adventures of greggery peccary!Oh, here comes greggery,Little grecgery peccaryThe nocturnal gregariousWild swineA peccaryIs a little pigWith a white collarThat usually hangs aroundBetween texas and paraguaySometimes ranging as farWest as catalinaCatalina, catalina, catalina!This particular peccaryIs part of that bold (bold),New (new) breed (breeding)That extinguishes itselfBy markings which resemble aWide tieDirectly below theWhite collarIf its white enoughEveryone will knowThat the tie Im wearingIs a symbolOf how nimble mv mind will knowOoh-ooh!(swine suave!)Look out!Here he comes again!Oh here comes greggery peccary.Yes its cravv, cravy, veah...Every morning, greggery drivesHis little red volkswagen to the uglyPart of town where they keep the government buildings.Voodn, voodn!Boy its so hard to find a place to park around here!Greggery peccary takes the elevatorUp to the eighty-third floor of a grim,Gray, evil-looking buildingWith a sign on the front reading:big swifty associates. trend-mongers.And what, might you ask, is a trend monger? Well, a trend monger is a personWho dreams up a trend(like the twist --- or flower power),And spreads it throughout the land,Using all the frightening little skillsThat science has made available!And so it was, one fateful morning,Greggery peccary made his way through the steno pool . . .Hi mildred!Hello gladys!Wanda!Yes, from the moment they laidEyes on him,All the girls in the big swiftySteno poolKnew . . .Here was aNocturnal,GregariousWild swineOn his way up!A peccary of destiny,AdventureAndRomance!Is there any mail for me? Swiftys!This is big swiftys!At big swiftys we all know-ow-owYoull goFor any gimmick or gizmo!Wouldnt you rather be involvedIn a series of colorfulTime-wastinc trends? Air hockey . . . biff . . . dush-h-h!La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la, youp youp youp youpIs your wife snoring by the sink? La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la, youp youp youp youpAint your life boring, dontcha think? Youp youp youp youp youp youp youpLife is so much betterWhen theres some little somethingTo do!Does it matter that this waste of timeIs what makes a life for you? hmmmmm? I must plummet boldlyForwardTo my ultra-avantLaminated,SimulatedReplica-mahogany desk,With the strategically-placed,Imported, very hip water pipe,And the latest edition of theWhole earth catalog,And rack my agile mindFor a spectacularNew trend,Thereby rejuvenating our limpingEconomy,And providingFor bored & miserable peopleEverywhereSome great newthingTo identify with.!We have got the little answersTo the thingsThat might` be bothering you!We have got your little toys!(were busy makin em!)Busy makin em,Were busy makin em,Busy makin emJust for you!Yoo-hoo-hoo!Very efficient. miss snodgrass!And with that.Gregcery turnedAnd strode nonchalantlyInto his dinky little officeWith the desk and the catalogAnd the very hip water pipe.And proceeded,With a vigor and determinationKnown only to pigletsOf a similarly diminutiveProportion,To single-handedly inventThe calendar!With his eye rolled heaven-ward.And his little shiny pig-hoofs on theDesk, greggery ponders theQuestion of eternity (and fractionalDivisions thereof), as mysteriousAngelic voices sing to him from aGreat distance, providing theNecessary clues for the construction ofThis thrilling new trend!SundaySunday? Wow!Sunday,mondaySunday,Saturday. . .tuesday through- monday!Saturday. . .And thus the calendar,In all of its colorful disguisesWas presented toThe bored & miserable peopleEverywhere!Gregcery issued a memo on it.Whereupon the entire contentsOf the steno poolIdentified with it strenuously,And worshipped it as a way of life,And took their little pills by it.And went back n forth fromWork by it.And paid their rent by it,And before long they were evenHavingBirthday parties in the officeBy it,Because now. at last,Crecgery peccarys exciting newInventionHad made it possibleFor everyoneTo find outHow old they were!What hath God wrought? Unfortunately,There were some peopleWho simply did not wish toKnow,And thats why,On his way home from the officeOne night,Greggery was attackedBy a rage of hunchmen!Making his way through theEvening traffic, greggery noticesThat the other vehicles whichCrowd and bump his little red carAre all inhabited by slowly-agingvery hip young people,They appear to be castingSinister glances toward himThrough their glinting acid burn-Out eyeballs, trying to run himOff the road, or make him bump intoSomething, giving strong evidenceOf hostile aggression!To elude them, greggery takes theShort forest exit off the express-Way. they zoom after him in allManner of cars. trucks,Garishly-painted buses, andMotorcycles.Greggery takes a bumpy trailOff the main short forest road,Which leads him up the sideOf a famous (and convenientlvPlaced) mountain, and into a strangeCave on the edge of a cliff, not farFrom a little twisted tree. . .withEyes on it.Meanwhile, the enraged hunchmen(and hunch-women) rumbleThrough the short forest until(realizing the little swine hasEscaped, they decide to park theirSteaming vehicles in a circularPseudo-wagon train formation. . .And have a love-in!Under the influence of a fantasticAmount of trendy chemical amusementAid, they proceed to perform lewdActs, rip each other off for smallPersonal possessions, and danceWith depraved abandon in the vicinityOf a six-foot pile of transistor radiosEach one tuned to a different station).What? The hunchmen finally expireFrom exhaustion,And greggery,Who has viewed the proceedingsFrom a safe distance,Breathes a sigh of relief. . .Phew!Only to be terrified once againBy a roar of immense laughter. . .Ho! ho! ho!Which seems to be rumbling upFrom the very depths of the caveIn which he has hidden his car!(good lord! what was that!? )Grecgery doesnt realizeHe has concealed himselfInside the very mouth ofBilly the mountain!Ho! ho! ho!And, as you all know,Whenever billy laughs,Rocks and boulders hack up,And the air for miles aroundIs filled with tons of dust,Forming a series of hugeBrown clouds!Who is making those new brown clouds? Who is making those clouds these days? Ho is making those new brown clouds? Better ask a philostopher n see what he says!Greggery stops at a gas stationAnd makes a mysterious phoneIs this the old loftWith the paint peelin off itBy the chinese policeHere the dogs roll by? Is this here they keepThe philostophers now,With the rugs & the dust,Where the books go to die? How many yez got? Say yez got quite a few,Just sittin around thereWith nothin to do? Well I just called yez upcause I wanted to seeA pilostoper be of assistanceTo me!Gregcery receives informationThatthe greatest livin philostopherKnon to mankindIs currently in possession of theVery informationIn question,And, furthermore, this informationCould be his,If only greggery would attend aspecial therapeutic groupAssembly(classes now forming),And available at a specialLow introductory fee. . .And now, here he is,the greatest living philosto-Pher known to mankind,Quentin robert denameland!Take it away!"folks,As vou can see for yourself.The way this clock over hereIs behaving,Time is of affliction!Now this might be cause for alarmAmong a portion of you, as,From a certain experience,I tend to proclaim:the eons are closing!"Make your checks payable to-25.8-quentin robert denameland,Greatest livin philostopherKnown to mankind!Who is making those new brown clouds? Who is making those clouds these days? Who is making those new brown clouds? If you ask a pilostopher, hell seeThat you pays!

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Frank Zappa

The Adventures of Greggery Peccary

Текст песни Frank Zappa - The Adventures of Greggery Peccary

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