Wistful Wit A Fist-Full - Frank Zappa

What is happening to me

And also to the old zombie i used to know?

Of course the words was once spectacular

Now we be talkin' de vernacular

Dis a strange kind of reactium

To de pig we et before

I’s immune to de resease

I 'spose from sucking up de grease

From de duo-denum drippings out of the pig before

I could laugh and rub my chin

When my resease come rolling in

It’s just like catching a second wind

I feel so gay

So might refer to me as scum

'Cause where dey all be coming from

When de Galoot co-log-na rushin' down the ley

Is underneath some raggedy dirt

In de suburbian outskirts

Of ol' Manhattan traffick happen near the gay white way

I gets clammy saying «Mammy»

I gets chills all up my spine

I gets wistful wit a fist-full of venetian bline

Just like tuggin' on de heartstrings

Just like dem little ol' fallin' apart things

Just like whatever that is that is rotten, yessir!

We surely has not forgotten

How to pretend to sing

Now dis ol' twinklin' eye

Only suckers forced to buy

Dem 'spensive tickets we be sellin' at de door

Now we got Broadway zombie mammies

We got an ugly orphan Annie

And the traditium will go on, and on, and on

I loves to see de zombie fly

It sorta makes ya, makes ya wanna cry

'Cause we’s Broadway, we’s expensive, and we can’t

I said we can’t

Can’t never die!

Can’t never die!

You’re too kind