my knees And roll my stockings down And all that jazz Start the car I know a whoopee spot Where the gin is cold But the piano's hot It's just a noisy
Frank zappa (vocals) Roy estrada (bass) Don preston (electronics) Buzz gardner (trumpet) Ian underwood (acoustic piano) Bunk gardner (tenor saxophone)
loosens a pebble and hangs there quite silent Listening to his heart 'til it lands Listening to his heart moved by his art Up the wall, up the wall His
the listener It's to the listener It's to the listener It's to the listener It's to the listeners, for those that have a ear for this State of the art
Frank Zappa (guitar, vocals) Ian Underwood (alto saxophone, piano) Bunk Gardner (tenor saxophone, clarinet) Motorhead Sherwood (baritone saxophone, tambourine
his art His art Oh lord my god Some times I wander Oh lord my god Consider what you will His art Your art My art His art Your art My art.
beretta, man I got that girl you wanna come and get her, man Call me the piano man Call me the piano man Call me the piano man Call me the piano man
all hidden by a hill She's sittin', playin' piano He's sittin', payin' a bill Betcha they're young Betcha they're smart Bet they collect things like ashtrays and art
rent. And you sit there with that old box And play away... Oscar : You don't have to stew about it, sister. Our poverty will soon depart When I develop my art
Louis some years before. [SOLO WOMAN #1] When he heard the music od Scott Joplin [SOLO MAN #2] In St. Louis [SOLO WOMAN #2] Bought himself some piano
hood She had a degree in social science She came out here to hollywood She's a six foot sultry beauty With an eye for polynisian art In a short shirt
Jesus hold my hand I need the every art Through this troubled land protect me by your side Hear my feeble plea oh Lord look down on me For I need your
hidden by a hill She's sitting playing piano, he's sitting paying a bill Betcha they're young, betcha they're smart Bet they collect things like ashtrays, and art
m'a marque, j'prend l'mic pour t'estomaquer Tu m'test au mic et si tu gagnes c'est la preuve que t'auras applique notre art avec la hargne Le savoir
and dreadful, for thou art not so; For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me. Thou art slave
cloud Read up in your magazine just to see what were about Peep into the case, see me, ask Why that black ass nigga flow over the piano Droppin it good
's fact I stole, part of a track and started to rap (map the growth) Try to explain, okay, the Koch era frame Hardly a game, no marketing just art in