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Frank zappa (lead guitar, vocals) |
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Ike willis (rhythm guitar, vocals) |
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Ray white (rhythm guitar, vocals) |
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Steve vai (rhythm guitar, vocals) |
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Warren cucurullo (rhythm guitar, vocals) |
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Denny walley (slide guitar, vocals) |
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Tommy mars (keyboards, vocals) |
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Peter wolf (keyboards) |
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Bob harris (keyboards, trumpet, vocals) |
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Ed mann (percussion) |
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Arthur barrow (bass, vocals) |
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Vinnie colaiuta (drums) |
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Your ethos |
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Your pathos |
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Your porthos |
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Your aramis |
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Your brut cologne |
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You're writing home |
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You are hopeless |
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Your hopelessness |
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Is rising around you, rising around you |
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You like it |
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It gives you something to do |
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In the day time |
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Hey buddy, you need a hobby |
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You are tired of moving forward |
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You think of the future |
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And secretly you piddle your pants |
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The puddle of piddle |
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Which used to be little |
|
Is rising around you, rising around you |
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You like it |
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It gives you something to do |
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In the night time |
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Oh well, you travel to bars |
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You also go to winchell's doughnuts |
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And hang out with the highway patrol |
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Sometimes you'll go to a pizza place |
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You go to shakey's to get that |
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American kind of pizza |
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That has the ugly, waxey, fake yellow |
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Kind of cheese on the top... |
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Maybe you'll go to straw hat pizza, |
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To get all those artificial ingredients |
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That never belonged on a pizza in the first place |
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(but the white people really like it...) |
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Oh well, you'll go anyplace, you'll do anything |
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Oh you'll give me your underpants |
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I hope these aren't yours, buddy... |
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They're very nice, though |
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You go to santa monica boulevard, |
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You go to the blue parrot |
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No problem, you'll go anyplace |
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You'll do anything |
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Just so you can hang out with the others |
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The others just like you |
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Afraid of the future |
|
(death valley days straight ahead) |
|
The future is scary |
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(yes it sure is) |
|
Well, the puddle is rising |
|
It smells like the ocean |
|
A body of water to isolate england |
|
And also reseda |
|
The oil in patches |
|
All over atlantis, atlantis |
|
You remember atlantis |
|
Donovan, the guy with the brocade coat |
|
Used to sing to you about atlantis |
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You loved it, you were so involved then |
|
That's back in the days when you used to |
|
Smoke a banana |
|
You would scrape the stuff off the middle |
|
You would bake it |
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You would smoke it |
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You even thought you was getting ripped from it |
|
No problem |
|
Woop! atlantis, they could really get down there |
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The plankton, the krill |
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The giant underwater pyramid, the squid decor |
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Excuse me, todd |
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The big ol' giant underwater door |
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The dome, the bubbles, the blue light |
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Light, light, light, light |
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Light, light, light, light |
|
Blue light blue light |
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The seepage, the sewage, the rubbers, the napkins |
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Your ethos, your porthos, |
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Your flag pole, your port hole |
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Your language |
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You're frightened |
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The future |
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Your lang... |
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You can't even speak your own fucking language |
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You can't read it anymore |
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You can't write it anymore |
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Your language |
|
The future of your language |
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Your meat loaf |
|
Don't let your meat loaf |
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Heh, heh, heh |
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Your micro-nanette |
|
Heh |
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Your brut |
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Cologne |