BONGO FURY


1. DEBRA KADABRA

Debra Kadabra say she's a witch
Shit-ass Charlotte, ain't that a bitch
Debra Kadabra, haw that's rich
June, a rancho granny,
Shook her wrinkled fanny
Shoes are too tight and pointed
Ankles sorta puffin' out
Cause me to shout

Oh Debra Algebra Ebneezra Kadabra
Witch goddess
Witch goddess of Lankershim Boulevard
Cover my entire bodice
With Avon Colog-nuh
An' drive me to some relative's house
In East LA [ ? ]
Just 'til my skin clears up
Turn it to channel 13
And make me watch the rubber tongue
When it comes out
From a puffed and flabulent
Mexican rubbergoods mask
Next time they show the [Binaca?]
Make me buy the Flosser
Make me grow brainiac fingers
But with more hair
Make me kiss your turquoise jewelry
Emboss me
Rub the hot front part of my head
With rented unguents
Give me bas-relief
Cast your dancing spell my way
I promise to go under it.
If she casts a spell my way,
I promise to go under it.
If she casts a spell my way,
I promise to go under it.
Oh, hear this!
Learn the pachuco hop, and let me twirl you!
Learn the pachuco hop, and let me twirl you!
Oh Debra Fauntleroy Magnesium Kadabra!
Take me with you!
Don't you want any a these?


2. CAROLINA HARD-CORE ECSTACY

I coulda swore her hair was made of Rayon
She wore a Milton-Bradley crayon
But she was something I could lay on
Can't remember what became of me
Carolina hard-core ecstacy

She put a Doobie Brothers tape on
I had a Roger Daltrey cape on
A Roger Daltrey cape on
There was a bed I dumped her shape on
Can't remember what became of me
Carolina hard-core ecstacy

Somewhat later on I woke up and she was gone
There was dew out on the lawn In the sunrise
Later she came back with a rumpled paper sack
Which she told me would contain a surprise

She stuck her hand right in it to the bottom
Said she knew I'd be surprised she got 'em
Take a Charleston pip to spot 'em
Then she gave a pair of shoes to me
Plastic leather fourteen triple-D

I said "I wonder what's the shoes for?"
She told me "Don't you worry no more"
And got right down there on the tile floor
Now darlin' stomp all over me
Carolina hard-core ecstacy

Is this something new having people stomp on you?
Is it what I need to do for your pleasure?
What is this? A Quiz? Don't you worry what it is
It is merely just a moment I can treasure

By ten o'clock her arms and legs were rendered
She couldn't talk 'cause her mouth had been extendered
It looked to me as though she had been blendered
But was this abject misery? No, no
Carolina hard-core ecstacy

It might seem strange to Herb and Dee
Carolina hard-core ecstacy


3. SAM WITH THE SHOWING SCALP FLAT TOP

Sam with the showing scalp flat top
Particular about the point it made
Why, when I was knee-high to a grasshopper
This black juice came out on a hard shell chin
And they call that tobacco juice
I used to fiddle with my back-feed music
For a black onyx
My tarred room absorbed every echo
The music was thud-like
The music was thud-like
I usually played such things as roughneckin' thug
Opaque melodies that would bug most people
Music from the other side of the fence
A black swan figurine lay on all-color lily pads
On a little conglomeration table of pressed black felt
With same color shadow
Obscene knob knees and what-nots
The long hallway rolled out into oddball odd
Beside the fly-pecked black doorway
That looked close on the [tar-lattice?] street
Up a wrought-iron fire escape
Rolled out a tiny wooden platform
With dark, hard, dark rubber wheels
Roll, squeak
Roll, squeak
Roll, squeak
Sam with the showing scalp flat top
Particular about the point it made
Sam was a basket case
A hardened dark ivory clip [held it?]
Saleable everyday pencils
I wish I had a pair of bongos
Bongo fury
Bongo fury
Bongo fury
Bongo fury


4. POOFTER'S FROTH WYOMING PLANS AHEAD

FZ:   "While  we're  at it, we have a sort of a cowboy song we'd like to do
for  ya.   This  is  a  song  that deals with the rapidly-approaching 200th
birthday  of  the United States, ladies and gentlemen.  This is a song that
warns  you  in  advance  that next year everybody is gonna try and sell you
things  that  maybe you shouldn't ought to buy.  And not only that, they've
been  planning  it for years.  The name of this song is .  .  .   pardon me,
"Poofter's Froth Wyoming Plans Ahead."

Poofter's Froth Wyoming
March Eleven sixty-seven
Take a letter, Miss [Abetta?]
And our pigeons will be homing
While jobbers in Dakota
And to Merwyn Minnesota
This is merely just a note about
Performance to our quota
Well, we've all come out to [showdom? showed 'em?]
And the Elks have helped us load 'em
Little packets full of jackets
Little rackets, little rackets
Little poofter cloth appointments
Little poofter's froth annointments
Little hoods, little goods
Little dood-dads from the woods
The entire stock is shippin'
Oh, our shod is hardly slippin'
To our markets of the world
Our wrinkled pennants are unfurled
Tee-shirts, racks, rubber snacks
Poster-rolls with matching tacks
Yes a special beer for sports
In paper cups that hold two quarts
Everything a nation needs
For makin' whoopla while it feeds
The trash-compacters, small reactors
Mowers, blowers, throwers & the glowers
Yes, a bicentennial salute
Two hundred years have gone kapoot
Ah, but we have been astute
Signed: Anon. - Wyo. Galoot!


5. 200 YEARS OLD

FZ:   "I  was  sittin' in a breakfast room in Allentown, Pennsylvania.  Six
o'clock  in  the  mornin'  (got  up  too early, it was a terrible mistake).
Sittin'  there  face-to-face  with a 75-cent glass of orange juice about as
big  as  my finger and a bowl of horribly foreshortened corn flakes.  And I
said to myself 'This is the life'."

She's 200 years old
So mean she couldn't grow no [niggas?]
She's 200 years old
So mean she couldn't grow no [niggas?]
She's 200 years old
Squattin' down and pockin' up
In front of the Juke Box
Like you had True Religion, boy
Hoy, hoy
In 200 years,
Half of this, none of that,
One.. fifty.. oh squattin',
Yeah-ah, ain't she got
Oohhh, she got religion now, boy.
    
Oohhhh, ?? ?? ??
Oohhhh, she's just mean,
she just, she just can't grow no lips.
Squat.. down, so mean she can't grow no lips.
200 years old, so mean she can't grow no lips.


6. CUCAMONGA

Out in Cucamonga many years ago
Near a holy roller church
There was once a place
Where me and a couple of friends
Began practising for the time we might go
[rock-n-roll noise]
On TV
And as fate would have it
Later on we got a chance to play
All we ever really knew
All we ever really knew
All we ever really knew
That it was crazy
[Nanook of the North]
To be doin' any other way
That it was crazy
[Nanook of the North]
To be doin' any other way
Oooooh
Wahhhh


7. ADVANCE ROMANCE

No more credit from the liquor store
Suit is all dirty but m-y-y-y-y shoes is all wore
I'm tired 'n lonely my [ ? ] heart is all sore
Advance romance
I can't stand it no more
No more
[She] told me she loved me I believed what she said
[She] took me for a sucker-boy, all corn-fed
[The] next thing I knew she had a bolt on the door
Advance romance
I can't use it no more
No more
She took George's watch like they always do
It was a Timex, too
And shame on you
No more money, boy, I shoulda knew
[Napoleon Murphy Brock: "You know I told ya"]
[George Duke: "I know you told me"]
[Napoleon Murphy Brock: "Ya didn't listen to me"]
[George Duke: "But I couldn't listen to ya"]
[George Duke: "You know what I'm talkin' about"]
[Napoleon Murphy Brock: "Told ya 'bout the anchovies, George Duke"]
The way she do me, boy, she might do you too
The way she do me, boy, she might do you too
The way she do me, boy, she might do you too
[FZ: "Look what she did to Denney right now"]

Advance Romance
People I Am Through!
Potato-head Bobby was a friend of mine
Opened three of his eyes in the food-stamp line
Opened four of his eyes in the food-stamp line
Opened five of his eyes in the food-stamp line
Opened six of his eyes in the food-stamp line
[George Duke: "She told me you might be a devil"]
[George Duke: "Good God, ya hear what I said"]
[George Duke: "But you shore look fine"]
[Napoleon Murphy Brock: "You know you like them evil women"]
[George Duke: "Goin' home"]
Advance romance
[George Duke: "What ya goin' do?"]
You gonna try it one time
He said he don't mind, no
Later that night he drop on by
Told her all he wanna do is step up and say Hi
[Hi-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i]
Half an hour later she had frenched his fry
Advance Romance
Bobby, say goodbye


8. MAN WITH THE WOMAN HEAD

Are you with me on this, people?
The man with the woman head
Polynesian wall-cover made the face stand out
A mixture of Oriental and early vaudeville jazz poofter
Forming a hard beetle-like triangular chin
Much like a praying mantis
Smoky razor-cut low on the ear neck profile
The face, the color of a nicotine-stained hand
Dark circles collected under the wrinkled, folded eyes
Naplike from too much turqoise eye-paint
He showed his old tongue through ill-fitting wooden teeth
Stained from too much opium chipped from the years
The feet, brown wrinkles above straw loafers
A piece of coconut and a pink seashell caught the tongue
And knotted into thin white strings
Charcoal-gray Eisenhower jacket zipped into a
[ ? ] green ascot
The coil of ashes collected on the white on yellow [dash?]
Four slender bones with rings 'n nails endured the weight
Of a hard, fat, black rubber cigarette holder
I could just make out Ace as he carried the tray
And mouthed "You cheap sonofabitch"
As a straw fell out of a coke
Cartwheeled into the gutter
So this was a drive-in restaurant in Hollywood
So this was a drive-in restaurant in Hollywood
So this was a drive-in restaurant in Hollywood


9. MUFFIN MAN

FZ:   "The  Muffin  Man  is  seated  at  the table in the laboratory of the
Utility  Muffin  Research Kitchen.  Reaching for an over-size chrome spoon,
he  gathers  an  intimate quantity of dried muffin remnants.  And, brushing
his  scapular  aside, proceeds to dump these inside of his shirt.  He turns
to  us and speaks:  'Some people like cupcakes better.  I for one care less
for  them.' Arrogantly twisting the sterile canvas snoot of a fully-charged
icing  annointment  utensil, he poots forth a quarter-ounce green rosette .
.   [Frank  laughs and loses it momentarily] Let's try that again, He poots
forth  a quarter-ounce green rosette near the summit of a dense but radiant
muffin  of  his  own  design.   Later  he says:   'Some people .  .  .  some
people,  heh,  like cupcakes exclusively while myself, I say, there is not,
nor  ought  there be nothing so exalted on the face of God's great earth as
that Prince of Foods .  .  .  THE MUFFIN.'"

Girl, ya thought he was a man
But he was a muffin
He hung around till ya found
That he didn't know nuthin'
Girl, ya thought he was a man
But he only was a puffin
Your cries is heard in the night
As a result of him stuffin'



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