| Song | Torture Never Stops |
| Artist | Frank Zappa |
| Album | You Can't Do That on Stage (Sampler) [live] |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Zappa | |
| Terry bozzio (drums, background vocals) | |
| Davey moire (vocals) | |
| Andre lewis (organ, vocals) | |
| Roy estrada (bass, vocals) | |
| Dave parlato (bass) | |
| Napoleon murphy brock (saxophone, vocals) | |
| Ruth underwood (synthesizer, marimba) | |
| Donnie vliet (harmonica) | |
| Louanne neil (harp) | |
| Ruben ladron de guevara (background vocals) | |
| Sharkie barker (background vocals) | |
| Flies all green and buzzin', | |
| In this dungeon of despair. | |
| Prisoners grumble and piss their clothes, | |
| And scratch their matted hair. | |
| A tiny light, from a window hole, | |
| A hundred yards away, | |
| Is all they ever gets to know | |
| About the regular light in the day. | |
| And it stinks so bad, the stones been chokin', | |
| And weepin' greenish drops. | |
| In the room where the giant fire puffer works, | |
| And the torture never stops. | |
| The torture never stops. | |
| Slime and rot, rats and snot, | |
| And vomit on the floor. | |
| Fifty yoogly soldiers, man, | |
| Holdin' spears by the iron door. | |
| Knives and spikes, and guns and the likes | |
| Of every tool of pain. | |
| And a sinister midget, with a bucket and a mop, | |
| Where the blood goes down the drain. | |
| And it stinks so bad, the stones been chokin', | |
| And weepin' greenish drops. | |
| In the room where the giant fire puffer works, | |
| And the torture never stops. | |
| The torture never stops. | |
| The torture.. the torture.. | |
| The torture never stops. | |
| Flies all green and buzzin', | |
| In this dungeon of despair. | |
| An evil prince eats a steaming pig, | |
| In a chamber right near there. | |
| He eats the snouts and the trotters first. | |
| The loins and the groins is soon dispersed. | |
| His carvin' style is well rehearsed. | |
| He stands and shouts: | |
| All men be cursed! | |
| All men be cursed! | |
| All men be cursed! | |
| All men be cursed! | |
| And disagree? | |
| Well, no one durst. | |
| He's the best, of course, of all the worst. | |
| Some wrong been done, he done it first. | |
| And it stinks so bad, his bones been chokin', | |
| And weepin' greenish drops. | |
| In the night of the iron sausage, | |
| Where the torture never stops. | |
| The torture never stops. | |
| The torture.. the torture.. | |
| The torture never stops. | |
| Flies all green and buzzin', | |
| In this dungeon of despair. | |
| Who are all those people, | |
| That he's locked away down there? | |
| Are they crazy? | |
| Are they sainted? | |
| Are they zeroes, | |
| Someone painted? | |
| And it's never been explained, | |
| Since it first it was created. | |
| But a dungeon, like a sin, | |
| Requires naught but lockin' in, | |
| Of everything that's ever been. | |
| Look at her. | |
| Look at him. | |
| That's what's the deal we're dealin' in. | |
| That's what's the deal we're dealin' in. | |
| That's what's the deal we're dealin' in. | |
| That's what's the deal we're dealin' in. |
| zuo ci : Zappa | |
| Terry bozzio drums, background vocals | |
| Davey moire vocals | |
| Andre lewis organ, vocals | |
| Roy estrada bass, vocals | |
| Dave parlato bass | |
| Napoleon murphy brock saxophone, vocals | |
| Ruth underwood synthesizer, marimba | |
| Donnie vliet harmonica | |
| Louanne neil harp | |
| Ruben ladron de guevara background vocals | |
| Sharkie barker background vocals | |
| Flies all green and buzzin', | |
| In this dungeon of despair. | |
| Prisoners grumble and piss their clothes, | |
| And scratch their matted hair. | |
| A tiny light, from a window hole, | |
| A hundred yards away, | |
| Is all they ever gets to know | |
| About the regular light in the day. | |
| And it stinks so bad, the stones been chokin', | |
| And weepin' greenish drops. | |
| In the room where the giant fire puffer works, | |
| And the torture never stops. | |
| The torture never stops. | |
| Slime and rot, rats and snot, | |
| And vomit on the floor. | |
| Fifty yoogly soldiers, man, | |
| Holdin' spears by the iron door. | |
| Knives and spikes, and guns and the likes | |
| Of every tool of pain. | |
| And a sinister midget, with a bucket and a mop, | |
| Where the blood goes down the drain. | |
| And it stinks so bad, the stones been chokin', | |
| And weepin' greenish drops. | |
| In the room where the giant fire puffer works, | |
| And the torture never stops. | |
| The torture never stops. | |
| The torture.. the torture.. | |
| The torture never stops. | |
| Flies all green and buzzin', | |
| In this dungeon of despair. | |
| An evil prince eats a steaming pig, | |
| In a chamber right near there. | |
| He eats the snouts and the trotters first. | |
| The loins and the groins is soon dispersed. | |
| His carvin' style is well rehearsed. | |
| He stands and shouts: | |
| All men be cursed! | |
| All men be cursed! | |
| All men be cursed! | |
| All men be cursed! | |
| And disagree? | |
| Well, no one durst. | |
| He' s the best, of course, of all the worst. | |
| Some wrong been done, he done it first. | |
| And it stinks so bad, his bones been chokin', | |
| And weepin' greenish drops. | |
| In the night of the iron sausage, | |
| Where the torture never stops. | |
| The torture never stops. | |
| The torture.. the torture.. | |
| The torture never stops. | |
| Flies all green and buzzin', | |
| In this dungeon of despair. | |
| Who are all those people, | |
| That he' s locked away down there? | |
| Are they crazy? | |
| Are they sainted? | |
| Are they zeroes, | |
| Someone painted? | |
| And it' s never been explained, | |
| Since it first it was created. | |
| But a dungeon, like a sin, | |
| Requires naught but lockin' in, | |
| Of everything that' s ever been. | |
| Look at her. | |
| Look at him. | |
| That' s what' s the deal we' re dealin' in. | |
| That' s what' s the deal we' re dealin' in. | |
| That' s what' s the deal we' re dealin' in. | |
| That' s what' s the deal we' re dealin' in. |
| zuò cí : Zappa | |
| Terry bozzio drums, background vocals | |
| Davey moire vocals | |
| Andre lewis organ, vocals | |
| Roy estrada bass, vocals | |
| Dave parlato bass | |
| Napoleon murphy brock saxophone, vocals | |
| Ruth underwood synthesizer, marimba | |
| Donnie vliet harmonica | |
| Louanne neil harp | |
| Ruben ladron de guevara background vocals | |
| Sharkie barker background vocals | |
| Flies all green and buzzin', | |
| In this dungeon of despair. | |
| Prisoners grumble and piss their clothes, | |
| And scratch their matted hair. | |
| A tiny light, from a window hole, | |
| A hundred yards away, | |
| Is all they ever gets to know | |
| About the regular light in the day. | |
| And it stinks so bad, the stones been chokin', | |
| And weepin' greenish drops. | |
| In the room where the giant fire puffer works, | |
| And the torture never stops. | |
| The torture never stops. | |
| Slime and rot, rats and snot, | |
| And vomit on the floor. | |
| Fifty yoogly soldiers, man, | |
| Holdin' spears by the iron door. | |
| Knives and spikes, and guns and the likes | |
| Of every tool of pain. | |
| And a sinister midget, with a bucket and a mop, | |
| Where the blood goes down the drain. | |
| And it stinks so bad, the stones been chokin', | |
| And weepin' greenish drops. | |
| In the room where the giant fire puffer works, | |
| And the torture never stops. | |
| The torture never stops. | |
| The torture.. the torture.. | |
| The torture never stops. | |
| Flies all green and buzzin', | |
| In this dungeon of despair. | |
| An evil prince eats a steaming pig, | |
| In a chamber right near there. | |
| He eats the snouts and the trotters first. | |
| The loins and the groins is soon dispersed. | |
| His carvin' style is well rehearsed. | |
| He stands and shouts: | |
| All men be cursed! | |
| All men be cursed! | |
| All men be cursed! | |
| All men be cursed! | |
| And disagree? | |
| Well, no one durst. | |
| He' s the best, of course, of all the worst. | |
| Some wrong been done, he done it first. | |
| And it stinks so bad, his bones been chokin', | |
| And weepin' greenish drops. | |
| In the night of the iron sausage, | |
| Where the torture never stops. | |
| The torture never stops. | |
| The torture.. the torture.. | |
| The torture never stops. | |
| Flies all green and buzzin', | |
| In this dungeon of despair. | |
| Who are all those people, | |
| That he' s locked away down there? | |
| Are they crazy? | |
| Are they sainted? | |
| Are they zeroes, | |
| Someone painted? | |
| And it' s never been explained, | |
| Since it first it was created. | |
| But a dungeon, like a sin, | |
| Requires naught but lockin' in, | |
| Of everything that' s ever been. | |
| Look at her. | |
| Look at him. | |
| That' s what' s the deal we' re dealin' in. | |
| That' s what' s the deal we' re dealin' in. | |
| That' s what' s the deal we' re dealin' in. | |
| That' s what' s the deal we' re dealin' in. |