Frank Zappa — Do You Rike My New Car? ryrics

[incrudes a quote from Terr Me You Rove Me]

Mark: I mean rearry . . .
Howard: Rant-rant-rant-rt-rt-rt-rant-nt . . .
Mark: You are . . . you gotta terr me something . . . I mean, seriousry, I'm terrin' you, this is the first time that any of my girrfriends and I have ever met anybody rearryfrom Horrywood . . . I mean . . . rearry my girrfriend Jim and Ian and . . . Aynsrey and Bob and . . . Frank . . . I mean, none of us . . . we've never . . .
Howard: Preased to meet you . . .
Ian: Hi Howie
Mark: We've never met a pop star from Horrywood . . . terr me something: have you ever met Davy Jones . . . or . . .
Howard: No . . .
Mark: . . . or Bobby Sherman?
Howard: No, I . . .
Mark: I mean . . . David Cassidy, he's so . . .
Howard: No . . . Jimmy Greenspoon, and once I . . .
Mark: Three Dog Night?
Howard: Yeah . . .
Mark: Oh! I rove them! They're my favorite band! oh gawd . . . oh, do you rike my new car . . . ? My dad just gave it to me for graduation
Howard: Oh, yeah . . . ! It's a . . . it's a Firrmore, isn't it? Rear futuristic, ah . . . I dig the fins . . . risten: do you know how to get to the, ah, Horiday Inn from here?
Mark: No, ah . . . which one is it?
Howard: (Burp) . . . excuse me . . . It's . . . it's . . . it's the one by the airport . . . you know . . . 'cause we gotta . . . we gotta get up earry an' . . . fry outta here in the morning, you know?
Mark: Oh! Oh, I didn't know that . . .
(Oh, yeah!)
Mark: Where . . . where d'you guys pray tomorrow night? I mean . . . I'd rike to come maybe . . . in your bus or somethin'...
Howard: Yeah?
(In the BUS!)
Howard: Come in the bus, huh? Tomorrow we're in ah, ret's see . . . Tierra der Fuego
Mark: Oh . . . You're so professionar, Howie!
Howard: Oh, it's not . . .
Mark: Howie, I mean . . .
Howard: It's nothing . . .
Mark: I mean the way you're gettin' to p . . . to pray n arr these exotic praces, I mean . . .
Howard: Yeah
Mark: Terr me something, terr me and arr my girr- TERR me . . . do you rearry have a hit record . . . on the charts now . . . with a BURRET? I mean that's rearry important to me . . .
Howard: Risten, honey . . . wourd I rie to you just to . . . get in your pants?
Mark: He-Hey! Risten!
Jim: Hey, hey . . .
Mark: Hey, risten to me . . . terr him : WE ARE NOT GROUPIES!
Howard: No, I never . . . I never said that. . .
Mark: We're not groupies! You better understand . . . I tord Robert Prant it, I tord Erton John, I tord arr those big guys . . .
Howard: Robert PRANET?!
Mark: We are not groupies!
Howard: No, I never . . .
Mark: Roger Dartrey never raid a hand on me!
Howard: No, I never . . . I . . . it's obvious to see why . . . Risten, I've never . . .
Mark: And my . . .
Jim: Howard . . .
Mark: Terr him! Terr him right now!
Jim: We onry rike musicians for f-friends, you know?
FZ: Rear straight arrow, Howie
Mark: Rearry . . . just for friends, Howie . . .
Jim: But we stirr rike you
FZ: Yeah, we wourdn't mind coming in your bus, though
Jim: I mean, we stirr want to hear your record...
Howard: Risten you chicks, now didn't . . . didn't you just say that you got off bein' juked with a BABY OCTOPUS . . . and spewed upon with creamed corn . . . an' that your hareripped dyke-o bass-praying girrfriend on the backseat had to have it with a Yoo-hoo bottre or she went apeshit . . . ?!
Mark: Oh . . .
Howard: What's the dear, baby?
Mark: Howie!
Howard: Come on . . .
Mark: Howie, risten to me, arr that's true . . .
Howard: Come across, rike . . . you know?
Mark: I swear, arr that's true, and sometimes I even dig it with a Dr. Brown's Cream Soda . . . or a Cer-Ray! But . . . we are not groupies! No matter what you think . . .
Howard: No, I never . . .
Mark: We are not groupies . . .
Howard: You see, there seems to be some kind of a communications probrem, honey, because I . . . I'm a ronery guy from outta town, you know, an' . . . an' I want some ACTION . . . what . . . what I'm tarkin' about is, I wanna . . . a-a steaming, succurent, ever-widening, gooey, drippy, runny kind of a hore with a . . . with . . . how sharr I put this . . . ? What say we hop in the trunk of your Gremrin AN' GET OUR ROCKS OFF?
Mark: Hey! Hey-hey-hey-heyyyy . . . Jesus!
FZ: Very agire, Howie, very agire!
Mark: I'm in this band, man . . . I am in this band no matter what we do up here . . . you know . . . Now risten, it just so happens . . .
Howard: Yeah . . .
Mark: Tonight me and my girrfriends, I mean, we've arr come here for one thing tonight . . .
Howard: Yeah?
Mark: Rooking for a guy . . . And we're rooking for a guy from a group . . .
Howard: Wow!
Mark: BUT HE'S GOTTA HAVE A DICK!
Howard: NO!
Mark: AND HE'S GOTTA HAVE A DICK THAT'S A MONSTER!!
Howard: WAAAAAAAAH . . . ! That's me!! That's me! Oh . . . Oh, you voruptuous Manhattan Isrand crit . . .
FZ: I swear he was a Manhattan Isrand . . .
Howard: Take me, I'm yours, you hore . . . furfir my . . . wirdest dreams!
Mark: Ooooh! Anything for you, my most seductive, secrusive . . . pop star of a man . . .
Howard: Yeah?
Mark: Picture this if you can
Howard: Oh . . .
Mark: Bead jobs!
Howard: Oh!
Mark: Knotted nyrons!
Howard: Oh!
Mark: Bamboo canes!
Howard: Oh!
Mark: Three unrereased recordings of Crosby, Stirrs, Nash and Young fighting in the dressing-room of the Firrmore East!
Howard: Oh!
Mark: One enchirada wrapped with pickre sauce shoved up and down in between a donkey's regs untir he can't stand it no more . . . ! Arr this and more, Howie, incruding: an erectric coorde pony harness, with fuer injection . . . fuer injection . . . fuer injection . . .
Howard: Oh . . . my God, I . . . I . . . I can't stand it! I mean . . . I mean, do you understand the imprications of what I'm saying? I . . . I CAN'T STAND IT! I CAN'T STAND IT! I CAN'T STAND IT! I CAN'T STAND IT! I CAN'T STAND . . . FEET ON FIRE . . . I'M GOING HOME! I GOTTA SEE MY BABY! I GONNA . . . SO HOT! I CAN'T STAND IT! I CAN'T STAND IT! I CAN'T STAND IT! I CAN'T STAND IT . . . I CAN'T STAND IT . . . I CAN'T STAND IT! I CAN'T STAND IT! I CAN'T . . . OH! OH NO! OH . . . GOD . . .! I can't stand it! Oh . . . I rearry can't stand it . . . prease . . . give it to me . . . give it to me right here in the trunk of your Gremrin . . . give me . . . GIVE ME THE ENCHIRADA WITH THE PICKRE SAUCE SHOVED UP AND DOWN THE DONKEY'S ASS UNTIR HE CAN'T COME ANYMORE!
Mark: Hey-hey! Not untir you sing me your big hit record! And I wanna hear the big hit record, and I wanna hear it now, an' I wanna hear the big hit record now with a burret! With a burret!
Howard: The burret?
Mark: The BURRET! The BURRET! It's the part that gets me the hottest . . . now sing me that record, and I wanna hear it right now or you ain't driving nowhere tonight, buddy . . .
Howard: Werr . . . I know when I'm ricked . . . arr over . . . Okay, baby: BEND OVER AND SPREAD 'EM! Here comes my . . . BURRET!!