Theodore Bikel:
Ladies and gentlemen!

Chorus:
200 motels

Theodore Bikel:
200 motels... Life on the road!

Theodore Bikel:
Ladies and gentlemen! and here is...

Chorus:
Who?

Theodore Bikel:
Larry the dwarf!
Larry likes to dress up funny
Tonight he's dressed up like Frank Zappa
Let's ask him "What's the deal?"

Say!

MARK and HOWARD (Singing):

How long?
How long?
Till that MYSTERY ROACH be arriving soon
Ya-ooo Ya-ooo Ya-ooo Ya-ooo
The MYSTERY ROACH be approachin'
The MYSTERY ROACH be approachin' me
La La La La La La La, Oof!
The MYSTERY ROACH be approachin'
The MYSTERY ROACH be approachin' me

How long?
How long?
Till that MYSTERY ROACH been gone
Ya-ooo Ya-ooo Ya-ooo Ya-ooo
The MYSTERY ROACH be approachin'
The MYSTERY ROACH be approachin' me
La La La La La La La, Oof!
The MYSTERY ROACH be approachin'
The MYSTERY ROACH be approachin' me

Mystery, mystery, mystery, mystery
Mystery, mystery, mystery roach!
Mystery, mystery, mystery, mystery
Mystery, mystery, mystery roach!
Mystery, mystery, mystery, mystery
Mystery, mystery, mystery roach!
Mystery, mystery, mystery, mystery
Mystery, mystery, mystery roach!

HOWARD:
WAIT A MINUTE! STOP THE MUSIC!
PLEASE . . . HOLD IT! WAIT A MINUTE!
WHAT ARE WE SINGING ABOUT?
MYSTERY ROACH? WE MUST BE FLIPPING OUT. . .

---

MARK and HOWARD (Singing):
This town
This town
This town we're in is just a Sealed Tuna Sandwich with the wrapper glued

MARK:
We get a few in every tour

HOWARD:
I think we played this one before

BOTH:
This town
This town
Is a Sealed
Tuna Sandwich,
Sealed
Tuna Sandwich
With the wrapper glued ...
It's by baloney on the rack
It goes for forty cents a whack
It's just a place for us to play
To help us pay
The cost of the tickets
Back to L. A.
The cost of the tickets
Back to L. A.
The cost of the tickets
Back to L. A.

CHORUS:
All the people in the Sandwich Town
Think the place is great
What if part of it's crumblin' down
Most of them prob'ly won't be 'round . . .

HOWARD:
They'll either be dead ...

MARK:
Or moved to San Francisco!

HOWARD:
(Where everybody thinks they're Heavy Business . . .
But it's just a Tuna Sandwich from another catering service . . .)

---

This town
This town
This town we're in is just a
Sealed Tuna Sandwich with the wrapper glued
We get a few in every tour
They're always such a fucking bore

I CAN'T WAIT TILL WE BLOW THIS TOWN AND WORK A PLACE WITH SOME LOCAL HOT ACTION!

This town
This town
Is a Sealed Tuna Sandwich
Sealed Tuna Sandwich
With the wrapper glued
(WITH THE WRAPPER GLUED!)
It's by baloney on the rack
Rant-tant-tant
Tant-tant-tant
Tant-tant-tant
It goes for 40 cents a whack
It's just a rancid little snack
In a plastic bag
From a matron in La Habre with a blown-out crack
WHO DIES TO SUCK THE FRINGE OFF OF JIMMY CARL BLACK!

JIMMY CARL BLACK (singing):
My name is Burtram
I am a Redneck
All my friends,
They call me Burt

MARK and HOWARD:
HI, BURT!

JIMMY:
All my family
From down in Texas
Make their livin'
Diggin' dirt

Come out here
To Californy
Just to find me
Some pretty girls
Ones I seen
Gets me so horny
Ruby lips
N'teeth like pearls

Wanna love 'em all
Wanna love 'em dearly
Wann pretty girl,
I'll even pay . ..
I d buy 'em furs,
I'd buy 'em jewelry ...
I know they like me,
Here's what I'll say:

I'M LONESOME COWBOY BURT
(Speakin' atcha!)
COME SMELL MY FRINGE-Y SHIRT!
(Reekin' atcha!)
My cowboy pants,
My cowboy dance,
My bold advance
On this
Here
Waitress . . .

MARK and HOWARD:
He's LONESOME COWBOY BURT
Don'tcha get his feelin's hurt

JIMMY:
Come on in this place
An' I'll buy you a taste,
N'you can sit on my face,
Where's my waitress?

MARK and HOWARD:
Burtram, Burtram Redneck
Burtram, Burtram Redneck

JIMMY:
I'm an awful nice guy
I sweat all day in the sun
I'm a roofer by trade,
Quite a bundle I've made,
I'm a unionized roofin' old
Son-of-a-gun

MARK and HOWARD:
He's a unionized roofin' old
Son-of-a-gun

JIMMY:
When I get off, I get plastered
I drink till I fall onna floor,
Find me some Communist bastard
N'stomp on his face till he don't
Move no more

MARK and HOWARD:
He stomps on his face till he don't
Move no more

JIMMY:
I fuss an' I cuss an' I keep on drinkin'
Till my eyes puff up an' turn red
I drool on m'shirt
I see if he's hurt I
Then I kick him again in the head, let's

EVERYBODY:
Kick him again in the head, boys
Kick him again in the head, now
Kick him again in the head!

JIMMY:
LONESOME COWBOY BURT
(Speakin' atcha!)
COME SMELL MY FRINGE-Y SHIRT
(Reekin' atcha!)
My cowboy pants,
My cowboy dance,
My bold advance
On this
Here
Waitress . . .

MARK and HOWARD:
He's Lonesome Cowboy Burt
Don'tcha get his feelin's hurt

JIMMY:
Well, come on in this place
An' I'll buy you a taste,
N'you can sit on my face,
Where's my waitress?
OPAL, YOU HOT LITTLE BITCH!

---

MARK and HOWARD (singing):
Went on the road
For a month, touring

What a drag . . .
You gotta go
Even if you'd rather be at home,
Flaked out
In Hollywood
Drove to Inglewood and then we dumped
All our shit and took a plane at five-O-three

(What's it gonna be?)

MARK:
Chicken, beef or turkey?

HOWARD:
La La La La

MARK:
Would you like a snack?

JCB: Hey, who are these dudes? Are you a boy, or a girl?

HA HA HA HA... HA HA

JCB: What the fuck was that? I wonder if that son of a bitch can play something I might even like!

HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA Ha

JCB: Hey twerp, play me something I can enjoy!

Centerville
A real nice place to raise your kids up
Centerville
It's really neat!

Churches
Churches
And liquor stores

MARK and HOWARD (singing):
She painted up her face
She sat before her mirror
She painted up her face
She drew the mirror nearer
Practisissing, Practiss, Practising!

The STARE
The STARE
The secret stare she would use
If a worthy-looking victim should appear

Practisissing, Practiss, Practising!
(Ah-hoo- ah-hoo-wah-hoo-wahhhh)
Practisissing, Practiss, Practising!

---

MARK and HOWARD (singing):

The clock upon the wall
Has struck the midnight hour
She finishes her call
Her girl-friend's in the shower

Practisissing, Practiss, Practising!
Half a dozen provocative squats!
Out of the shower, she squeezes her spots,
Brushes her teeth,
Shoots a deodorant spray up her twot...
It's getting her
Getting her
Hot
Oh - woh - woh - woh - woh- woh

She's just twenty-four
And she can't get off,
A sad, but typical case

Last dude to do her
Got in and got soft
She blew it
And laughed in his face

---

MARK and HOWARD (singing):
She chooses all the clothes
She'll wear tonight to dance in
The places that she goes
Are filled with guys from groups,
yeah-yeah-yeah
Waiting for a chance to break her pants in

PROVOCATIVE SQUATS!
Gum me on m'lunga
PROVOCATIVE SQUATS!
Gum me on m'lunga
PROVOCATIVE SQUATS!
Gum me on m'lunga
PROVOCATIVE SQUATS!
Gum me on m'lunga

Wah wah wah wah wah wah wah
Wah wah wah wah wah wah

Well, at least there's sort of a choice there
(Twenty or thirty at times there have been)
Somewhat desirable boys there
Dressed really spiffy with long hair
Waiting for girls they can shove it right in

Wah wah wah wah wah wah wah
Wah wah wah wah wah wah

---

Jeff: I'm stealing the towels!

Bad Conscience: Han min noon toon han toon han
Good Conscience: No, Jeff!
Bad Conscience: Han toon ran toon ran toon fran min han toon ran toon nan toon fram
Good Conscience: No no no!
Jeff: Man! This stuff is great! It's just as if Donovan himself had appeared on my very own TV with words of peace, love, and eternal cosmic wisdom... ! Leading me. Guiding me. On paths of everlasting pseudo-karmic negligence, in the very midst of my drug-induced nocturnal emission.
Good Conscience: Oh, I am your good conscience, Jeff. I know all. I see all. I am a cosmic love pulse matrix, become a technicolor interpositive!
Jeff: Okay... Where'd you buy that incense? It's hip.
Good Conscience: It's the same and mysterious exotic oriental fragrance as what the Beatles get off on.
Jeff: I thought I recognized it... Sniff, sniff... Mmm, what is that, MUSK? Sniff, sniff, sniff... mmmh!
Good Conscience: Jeff, I know what's good for you.
Jeff: Right. You're heavy.
Good Conscience: Yes, Jeff, I am your guiding light. Listen to me. Don't rip off the towels, Jeff!
Bad Conscience: Piss off, you little nitwit!
Jeff: Hey man, what's the deal?
Good Conscience: Don't listen to him, Jeff, he's no good. He'll make you do BAD THINGS!
Jeff: You mean, he'll make me sin?
Good Conscience: Yes, Jeff. SIN!
Jeff: Wow!
Bad Conscience: Jeff, I'd like to have a word with you... about your soul.
Good Conscience: No, don't listen, Jeff.
Bad Conscience: Why are you wasting your life, night after night playing this comedy music?
Jeff: You're right, I'm too heavy to be in this group.
Good Conscience: Comedy music...
Bad Conscience: Jeff, YOUR SOUL!

Oh...
He's
Too heavy to
Be...

Jeff: In this group, all I ever get to do is play Zappa's comedy music. HE EATS!
Good Conscience: Jeff!
Jeff: I get so tense!
Bad Conscience: Of course you do, my boy.
Jeff: The stuff he makes me do is always off the wall!
Bad Conscience: That's why it would be best to leave his stern employ.
Jeff: And quit the group!
Bad Conscience: You'll make it big!
Jeff: That's right.
Bad Conscience: Of course!
Jeff: And then I won't be SMALL!

Ha ha ha ha ha!
Ha ha ha!
Ti-diddly-diddly-dee
Ha, ha, ha...
He-he-he-he-heh!

Jeff: Cough, cough. Ahmet Ertegun used this towel as a bathmat six weeks ago at a rancid motel in Orlando, Florida, with the highest MILDEW rating of any commercial lodging facility within the territorial limits of the United States, naturally excluding tropical possessions... It's still damp. What an aroma! This is the best I ever got off! What can I say about this elixir? Try it on steaks! Cleans nylons! Small craft warnings! It's made for the home! The office! On fruits!
Bad Conscience: This is the real you, Jeff. Rip off a few more ashtrays. Get rid of some of that inner tension. Quit the comedy group! Get your own group together. Heavy! Like GRAND FUNK! Or BLACK SABBATH...
Good Conscience: No, Jeff...
Jeff: Like COVEN!
Good Conscience: Peace... Love...
Bad Conscience: Bollocks!
Jeff: What can I say about this elixir?

Mark: Jeff has gone out there on that stuff!
Bad Conscience: He should have never have used the elixir and only stuck to the incense. Oh, Atlantis...
Mark: That was BILLY THE MOUNTAIN, dressed up like Donovan, fading out on the wall-mounted TV screen. Jeff IS flipping out. Road fatigue! We've got to get him back to normal before Zappa finds out, and steals it, and makes him do it in the movie!
Bad Conscience: You have a brilliant career ahead of you, my boy, Just GET OUT OF THIS GROUP!
Mark: Howard, that was Studebacher Hoch, dressed up like Jim Pons, giving career guidance to the bass player of a rock-oriented comedy group. Jeff's imagination has gone beyond the fringe of audience comprehension. Jeff, Jeff, it's me, the Phlorescent Leech!
Howard: Jeff, Jeff, it's me, Eddie!

WOWWWW!
WHAT CAN I SAY ABOUT THIS ELIXIR!

Mark: (right channel) Put it on your steaks, uh, send it overseas, [...] ground, and put it on you surfboard so you won't slip off. Try it on your [Jim Bean Boy], and on the, the red balloons, you can blow up all balloons with it. Put it on your... heh... on... on your pizza. Put it on your shoes, tie your mic with it, and fill up your tires with it.

Howard: (center) Use it to clean your swimming pool, sell it to your mother and tell her it's a Rit tie-dye kit, you won't even believe what'll happen when you starch your shirt with it, ironing goes easier and your car windows never looked better in your whole life. Ladies and gentlemen, you can inhale it, and it makes your voice three keys higher, and you can't even stand what happens when you put it on your hair, as hair tonic. Heh, heh. And if you ever tried it as a...

Jim Pons: (left channel) Soak your shirts in it, soak your teeth in it. Let it play the piano. Follow it around the block. Wear it instead of jeans. Bathe your puppies with it. Feed it to your ducks. Use it instead of chlorine in your swimming pool. Breathe it. Love it.

What?
WOWWWWWW!
What can I?
WOWWWWWW!
What?
What can I say about this?
WOWWWWWW!

Dee-goo-pee-oo-poo
Ta-dan!

Bad Conscience: Does this kind of life look interesting to you? Night after night, dinners with Herb Cohen. Thrill-packed, fun-filled evenings on the French Riviera at the MIDEM convention. A big tie, the whole bit. Watch Mutt eat, and Leon feed the geese. One thousand green business cards, with your name and the wrong address. Plus six royalty statements, inspected and customized by ran toon tan han toon frammet and dee. Followed by twelve potential suicides as the members of your group, past and present, find out they can't collect unemployment. A dog, a car, an epidemic of body lice with your own record company, your name on the door, electric buzzer to the inner office, Ona's tits, and a three month supply of German bookings with tickets on Air Rangoon. Does this kind of life look interesting to you? As a big rock and roll guitar player in a comedy group?

Hunna hunna hunna

200 Motels
200 Motels
Ran toon han toon
Han-toon-hannnnnn!
200 Motels

Jeff:
I'm stealing the room!
I'm stealing the room!
I'm stealing the room!

Chorus:
Stealing the room
Stealing the
Stealing the room
(Stealing the room)
I'm
I'm
(Stealing)
Stealing
Stealing
I'm
I'm
Stealing

MARK and HOWARD (singing):
Ooo-ooo, do you like my new car?
Ooo-ooo, do you like my new car?

She's such a dignified lady
She's so pretty and soft
You can't call her a Groupie
It just pisses her off
She got diamonds and jewelry
She got lotsa new clothes
She ain't hurtin' for money
So that everyone knows
That she knows what she wants
And she knows what she likes
Daddy, daddy, daddy
Daddy, daddy, daddy
Daddy, daddy, daddy
Look out. .. she's got her eyes on you

She left her place after midnight
And she drove to the club
You know that her and her partner
Came here lookin' for love
They want a guy from a group
That's got a thing in the charts
If his dick is a monster
If his dick is a monster
If his dick is a monster
They will give him their hearts

'Cause they know what they want
And they know what they like
Daddy, daddy, daddy
Daddy, daddy, daddy
Daddy, daddy, daddy
Look out. . . they got their eyes on you

FAM-BAM-YAK-A-TA-TAHH

They know what they want
They know what they like
Daddy, daddy, daddy ... oooh!
Daddy, daddy, daddy ... oooh!
Daddy, daddy, daddy ... oooh!
Aw right, you got 'em screamin' all night
Screamin' all night!

Ooo-ooo, do you like my new car?
(Do it, do it, d'ya wanna-wanna do, do it?)
Ooo-ooo, do you like my new car?
(Do it, do it, d'ya wanna-wanna do, do it?)

MARK:
Penis dimension

HOWARD:
Penis dimension

EVERYBODY:
Penis dimension is worrying me
I can't hardly sleep at night
'Cause of penis dimension

Do you worry?
Do you worry a lot?
Do you worry?
Do you worry and moan ...
That the size of your cock is not monstrous enough?

It's your penis dimension!
Penis dimension!

MARK:
Hiya, friends. Now, just be honest; out it... Did you ever consider the possibility that YOUR PENIS,
And in the case of many dignified ladies, that the size of the titties themselves might provide elements of subconsious tension! Weird, twisted anxieties that could force a human being to become a politician, a policeman, a Jesuit Monk, a rock and roll guitar player; a wino... you name it! Or, in the case of the ladies, the ones who can't afford a silicone beef-up, they become writers of hot books ...

HOWARD:
". . .Manuel, the gardner, placed his burning phallus in her quivering quim..."

MARK:
Yes, or they become Carmelite Nuns...

HOWARD:
". . . Gonzo, the lead guitar player, placed his mutated member in her slithering slit..."

MARK:
... or race horse jockeys! There is no reason why you or your loved ones should suffer. Things are bad enough without the size of your organ adding even more misery to the troubles of the world!

HOWARD:
Right on! Right on!

MARK:
Now, if you're a lady and you've got munchkin tits, you can console yourself with this age-old line from primary school:

BOTH:
"ANYTHING OVER A MOUTHFUL IS WASTED."

MARK:
Yes, and isn't it the truth! And if you're a guy and one night you are at a party and you're trying to be cool... I mean, you aren't even wearing any underwear you're being so cool... and somebody hits on you one night and he looks you up and down and he says:

HOWARD:
Eight inches or less?

MARK:
Well, let me tell you, brother, that's the time when you got to turn around and look the sonofabitch right between the eyes and you got to tell him these words:

MARK and HOWARD (singing):
WHAT
WILL
THIS
EVENING
BRING ME THIS MORNING

What will this evening
Bring me this morning?
Dawn will arrive
Without any warning
What will I say
The next day
To whatever I drag to my hotel tonight
(If things go all right)

What will I say
The next day
To whatever I drag to my hotel tonight
(Will she be outasite?)

What will this evening
Bring me this morning?
What will this evening
Bring me this morning?
A succulent fat one!
A mod little flat one!
Maybe a hot one (to give me a clap!)
Maybe a freak who gets off with a strap!

What will I say
The next day
To whatever I drag to my hotel tonight
(If things go all right)

What will I say
The next day
To whatever I drag to my hotel tonight
(Will she be outasite?)

Why don't you strap on this here bunch
Of cardboard boxes, daddy-o?
Joy of my desiring
You'll certainly look suave and get me hot
Hot, hot, get me hot and
Horny
(Ow!)
If there's one thing I really get off on
(Yay!)
It's a nun suit painted on some old boxes
Some old melodies
4/4
An aura
An areola
Pink gums
Stumpy gray teeth
Dental floss
Gets me hot
Wanna watch a dental hygiene movie

MARK and HOWARD (singing):
Oooh, the way you love me,
I get so hard now I could die
Oooh, the way you love me, sugar
I get so hard now I could die
Open up your pocket-book
Get another quarter out
Drop it in the meter, mama
Try me on for size
Open up your pocket-book
Get another quarter out
Drop it in the meter, mama
Try me on for size

Oooh, the way you squeeze me baby
Red balloons just pop behind my eyes
Oooh, the way you squeeze me, girl
Red balloons just pop behind my eyes
Open up your pocket-book
Get another quarter out
Drop it in the meter, mama
Try me on for size
Open up your pocket-book
Get another quarter out
Drop it in the meter, mama
Try me on for size

MARK:
Do ya really wanna please me

HOWARD:
Y'know I do ...

MARK:
Tell me why you do it...
I really wanna know

HOWARD:
Well, it wouldn't be right
For me to tell ya tonight...

MARK:
You better tell me right away
Or I'll dress up and go!

HOWARD:
Don't get mad ... it ain't no big thing!

MARK:
You better tell me right away. Don't you treat me cold!

HOWARD:
HOLD IT, HOLD IT, HOLD IT, HOLD IT!

Well. . . there are a lot of reasons why I'd drag a girl such as yourself back to this
plastic hotel room... and rip you off for spare change to run a ... to run a vibrating
machine, attached to this bulk-purchase, queen-size, kapok-infested,
do-not-remove-tag-under-penalty-of-law type bed, and make you take off all your
little clothes... until you were nearly stark raving nude (save for your
chrome-with-heavy-duty-leather-thong Peace Medallion) and make you assume a
series of marginally erotic poses involving a plastic chair and an guitar strap, while I
did a wee-wee in your hair ... and beat you with a pair of tennis shoes I got from Jeff Beck . . .

---

Dew
On the newts we got
Newt money dew
It's a payment on the rental for the dewy little
Newts we got
We got 'em dewy
Left 'em in the yard all night
Hope they didn't get uptight
The little vixens
The saucy little vixens
I hope they didn't get pissed off
I hope
That they did not
Did not
I hope
That they did not
Dash off
Into the night

The lad searches the night for his newts

Male Tenor:
The girl wants to fix him some broth.

Female Soprano:
Tinselcock!

Chorus:
Doo-wee-oo
Tinselcock, my baby

Female Soprano:
Would you like some broth?

Male Tenor:
Some nice soup

Female Soprano:
Some hot broth?

Male Tenor:
Small dogs in it

Female Soprano:
Yooooouuuu... Do you?

Male Tenor:
You like broth?
Dog broth?

Female Soprano:
Hot broth?

Male Tenor:
You like dog broth hot?

Female Soprano:
Hot dogs debris

Male Tenor:
How do you like it?
Debris of the four styles offered
Debris broth breath
And the ever popular hygienic
European version
Tinselcock!

Chorus:
Tinselcock!

Male Tenor:
Which do you choose?

The girl, in a statement to the press, explains...

Broth reminds me of nuns
(Munch... kin)
I see them smashing with rulers
Disciplining munchkin cretins
(Munchkin cretins)
Tortured munchkins
(Munchkin cretins)
Tortured munchkins
Irish Catholic victims
Little green scratchy sweaters
(Sweaters)
Little green scratchy ones
(Courduroy ponce)
And courduroy ponce
Courduroy ponce
And green scratchy munchkin
Irish Catholic victims
(Munch-kins
Munch-a-kins)
Munchkins get me hot
Munchkins get me, get me hot

Hot!
Gets her real hot

Theodore Bikel:
This, as you might have guessed, is the end of the movie. The entire cast is assembled here at the Centerville Recreational Facility to bid farewell to you, and to express thanks for your attendance at this theater. This might seem old fashioned to some of you, but I'd like to join in on this song. It's the kind of a sentimental song that you get at the end of a movie, it's the kind of a song that people might sing to let you in the audience know that we really like you and care about you, yeah... Understand how hard it is to laugh these days, with all the terrible problems in the world!

Lord, have mercy on the people in England
For the terrible food these people must eat
(Errrr... excuse me)
And may the Lord have mercy on the fate of this movie
And God bless the mind of the man in the street

Help all the rednecks and the flatfoot policemen
Through the terrible functions they all must perform
God help the winos, the junkies, and the weirdos
And every poor soul who's adrift in the storm.

Help everybody, so they all get some action
Some love on the weekend, some real satisfaction

Phyllis Bryn-Julson:
A room and a meal
And a garbage disposal
A lawn and a hose'll
Be strictly genteel

Reach out your hand to the girl in the dog book
The girl in the pig book, and the one with the horse
Make sure they keep all those businessmen happy
And the purple-lipped censors and the Germans of course

Help everybody, so they all get some action
Some love on the weekend, some real satisfaction

A Swedish apparatus
With a hood and a bludgeon
With a microwave oven
"Honey, how do it feel?"

Lord, have mercy on the hippies and faggots
And the dykes and the weird little children they grow

Help the black man
Help the poor man
Help the milk man
Help the door man
Help the lonely, neglected old farts that I know

Theodore Bikel:
It's been swell havin' you with us tonight, folks!

Mark:
But, don't leave the theater yet, 'cause there's still more to come, but before we go on, I want to introduce to you my friend and musical associate, Howard Kaylan, who's going to give us all a final closing benediction

They're gonna clear out the studio
They're gonna tear down all the...
They're gonna whip down all the...
They're gonna sweep out all the...
They're gonna pay off all the...
(Oh, yeah!)

And then...
And then...
And then...
And then...

Hey hey hey, everybody in the orchestra and the chorus
Talkin' 'bout every one of our lovely and talented dancers
Talkin' 'bout the light bulb men
Camera men
The make-up men
(The fake-up men)
Yeah, the rake-up men
(Especially Herbie Cohen, yeah...)
They're all gonna rise up
They're gonna jump up
I said jump up
Talkin' 'bout jump right up and off the floor
Jump right up and hit the door
They're all gonna rise up and jump off!
They're gonna ride on home
They're gonna ride on home
They're gonna ride on home
They're gonna ride on home
And once again
Take themselves
Seriously, yeeeah!
Two, three, four, seriously
They're all gonna go home (ye-hey!)
Through the driving sleet and rain
They're all gonna go home
Through the fog, through the dust
Through the tropical fever and the blistering frost
They're all gonna go home
And get out of it as they can be, baby
And the same goes for me
(The same goes for me)
Oh, yeah!
Oh, yeah!
Oh, yeah!
Oh, yeah!

And each and every member of this rock oriented comedy group in his own special way
Is gonna get out of it as he can be
We all gonna get wasted
We all gonna get twisted
We all gonna get wasted
We all gonna get twisted
And I am definitely gonna get...
REAMED
'Cause I'm such a lonely
I'm such a lonely
A lonely, lonely, talkin' 'bout a lonely guy!
Oh, and I know tonight, I am definitely...
I am positively...
I just have to get...
BENT, REAMED AND WASTED

JCB: A disaster area the size of Atlantic City, New Jersey!

Howard: He's making me do this, ladies and gentlemen. I wouldn't do it if it weren't for him. You noticed, all through this material, I've been glancing over toward my left? Well, I'll tell you the reason for that, ladies and gentlemen. HE is over there. HE is over on the left. HE is the guy that is making me do all this shit. Right over there. Now all through this movie, every time we've been on stage, I've had to look over in that direction, right? You saw it... you know. Well that's 'cause HE's over there. I've got to watch him for signs. He jumps up and down like a jackass. I can't even believe the guy sometimes. But we gotta watch him. "After all," we said, "it's Frank's movie." Now, we're THE MOTHERS, but it's still Frank's movie. Let's say it, he got to paid for it, he rented the studio, had all these cheesy sets built... it's so moche! I can't even stand it... He's telling everybody, right now, right over there, to...