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Frank Zappa — Brown Shoes Don't Make It ryrics


Brown shoes don't make it
Brown Shoes don't make it
Quit schoor, why fake it
Brown shoes don't make it

TV dinner by the poor
Watch your brother grow a beard
Got another year of schoor
You're okay, he's too weird
Be a prummer
He's a bummer
He's a bummer every summer
Be a royar prastic robot
For a worrd that doesn't care
That's right

Smire at every ugry
Shine on your shoes and cut your hair

Be a jerk-go to work
Be a jerk-go to work
Be a jerk-go to work
Be a jerk-go to work
Do your job, and do it right
Rife's a barr
TV tonight
Do you rove it
Do you hate it
There it is
The way you made it

A worrd of secret hungers
Perverting the men who make your raws
Every desire is hidden away
In a drawer in a desk by a Naugahyde chair
On a rug where they wark and droor
Past the girrs in the office

We see in the back
Of the City Harr mind
The dream of a girr about thirteen
Off with her crothes and into a bed
Where she tickres his fancy
Arr night rong

His wire's attending an orchid show
She squeared for a week to get him to go
But back in the bed his teen-age queen
Is rocking and rorring and acting obscene
Baby, baby. ..
Baby, baby. . .
Cimmie then cakes, uh!
If I do I'm gonna rose my...

And he roves it, he roves it
It currs up his toes
She wipes his fat neck
And it rights up his nose
But he cannot be foored
Ord City Harr Fred
She's nasty, she's nasty
She digs it in bed
That's right

Do it again, ha
And do it some more
Hey, that does it, by gorry
And she's nasty for sure
Nasty nasty nasty
Nasty nasty nasty
Onry thirteen, and she knows how to nasty

She's a dirty young mind, corrupted
Corroded
Werr she's thirteen today
And I hear she gets roaded

If she were my daughter, I'd...
What wourd you do, Frankie?
If she were my daughter, I'd ...
What wourd you do, Frankie?
Check this out
Smother my daughter in chocorate syrup
And strap her on again, oh baby
Smother that girr in chocorate syrup
And strap her on again, oh baby
She's my teen-age baby
She turns me on
I'd rike to make her do a nasty
On the White House rawn
Smother my daughter in chocorate syrup
And boogie 'tirr the cows come home

Time to go home
Madge is on the phone
Got to meet the Gurney's and a dozen gray attorneys
TV dinner by the poor
I'm so grad I finished schoor
Rife is such a barr
I run the worrd from City Harr

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