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FRANK ZAPPA - Brown Shoes Don't Make It Lyrics

Frank zappa (lead guitar, vocals)Ike willis (rhythm guitar, vocals)Ray white (rhythm guitar, vocals)Steve vai (rhythm guitar, vocals)Warren cucurullo (rhythm guitar, vocals)Denny walley (slide guitar, vocals)Tommy mars (keyboards, vocals)Peter wolf (keyboards)Bob harris (keyboards, trumpet, vocals)Ed mann (percussion)Arthur barrow (bass, vocals)Vinnie colaiuta (drums)Brown shoes don't make itBrown shoes don't make itQuit school, why fake itBrown shoes don't make itTv dinner by the poolWatch your brother grow a beardGot another year of schoolYou're okay, he's too weirdBe a plumberHe's a bummerHe's a bummer every summerBe a loyal plastic robotFor a world that doesn't careThat's rightSmile at every uglyShine on your shoes and cut your hairBe a jerk - go to workBe a jerk - go to workBe a jerk - go to workBe a jerk - go to workDo your job, and do it rightLife's a ballTv tonightDo you love itDo you hate itThere it isThe way you made itA world of secret hungersPerverting the men who make your lawsEvery desire is hidden awayIn a drawer in a desk by a naugahyde chairOn a rug where they walk and droolPast the girls in the officeHratche-plche, hratche-plcheHratche-plche...We see in the backOf the city hall mindThe dream of a girl about thirteenOff with her clothes and into a bedWhere she tickles his fancyAll night longHis wife's attending an orchid showShe squealed for a week to get him to goBut back in the bed his teen-age queenIs rocking and rolling and acting obsceneBaby baby...Baby baby...Gimme them cakes now, uh!If I do, I'm gonna lose my...And he loves it, he loves itIt curls up his toesShe wipes his fat neckAnd it lights up his noseBut he cannot be fooledOld city hall fredShe's nasty, she's nastyShe digs it in bedThat's rightDo it again, haAnd do it some moreHey, that does it, by gollyAnd she's nasty for sureNasty nasty nastyNasty nasty nastyOnly thirteen, and she knows how to nastyShe's a dirty young mind, corruptedCorrodedWell she's thirteen todayAnd I hear she gets loadedIf she were my daughter, i'd...What would you do, frankie? Well, if she were my daughter, i'd...What would you do, frankie? If she were my daughter, i'd...What would you do, frankie? Check this outSmother my daughter in chocolate syrupAnd strap her on again, oh babySmother that girl in chocolate syrupAnd strap her on againShe's my teen-age babyShe turns me onI'd like to make her do a nastyOn the white house lawnSmother my daughter in chocolate syrupAnd boogie 'til the cows come homeTime to go homeMadge is on the phoneGotta meet the gurneys and a dozen grey attorneysTv dinner by the poolI'm so glad I finished schoolLife is such a ballI run the world from city hall
 

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