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. |