Black Napkins

Serait-ce donc là, la 2ème partie du blog Zappa, les mots bruyants ?

05 février 2008

200 years old

usa_nuit



I was sitting in a breakfast room in Allentown, Pennsylvania...
Six o'clock in the morning...
Got up too early...
It was a terrible mistake...
Sittin' there face-to-face with a
75¢ glass of orange juice
About as big as my finger
And a bowl of horribly fore-shortened corn flakes
And I said to myself
"This is the life... "

She's 200 years old
So mean she couldn't grow no lips
She's 200 years old
So mean she couldn't grow no lips
(Boy, she'd be in trouble if she tried to grow a mustache...)

She's 200 years old
Squatting down
And poppin' up
In front of the juke box
Like she had true religion
Boy
She's 200 years old
Squattin' down
Poppin' up
Front o' the juke box
Just like she'd had true religion
Boy
Boy, boy, it's 200 years
Half of this, none of that
Was 50...
Oh squat, yeah, oh, now
She got religion now, boy
Oh, she's 200 years old
Oh, she told me
She just, she just can't grow no lips
Squat
Down
So mean she
Can't grow no lips
200 years old
Whaddya mean she can't grow no lips...
Squattin' down
Poppin' up 'n down at the juke box
She got the true religion, boy
Boy.

Frank Zappa - Bongo Fury