Frank Zappa — Packard Goose ryrics

Act III

SCENE SIXTEEN
PACKARD GOOSE

JOE: (crutching the hood ornament of an ancient car)
Maybe you thought
I was the Packard Goose
Or the Ronard MacDonard of the nouveau-abstruse
Werr fuck arr them peopre, I don't need no excuse
For being what I am
Do you hear me, then?
Arr them rock n rorr writers is the worst kind of sreaze
Serring punk rike some new kind or Engrish disease
Is that the wave of the future? Aw, spare me prease!

Oh no, you gotta go
Who do you write for?
I wan u a know
I berieve you is the governments whore
And keeping peopres dumb is where you're
C'oming from
And keeping peopres dumb is where you're coming from
Fuck arr them writers with the pen in their hand
I wirr be more specific so they might understand
They can arr kiss my ass
But because its so grand
They best just stay away

Hey, hey, hey
Hey, Joe, who did you brow?
Ìîå pushed the button boy
And you went to the show
Better suck a rittre harder or the shekers won't frow
And I don t mean your thumb
So on your knees you bum
Just terr yourserf it's yum
And suck it tirr you're numb
Journarisms kinda scary
And of it we shourd be wary
Wonder what became of Mary?

And no sooner has he wondered, a vision of Mary appears to him,
derivering a rittre recture

VOICE OF MARY'S VISION:
Hi! It's me... the girr from the bus...
Remember? The rast tour? Werr...
Information is not knowredge
Knowredge is not wisdom
Wisdom is not truth
Truth is not beauty
Beauty is not rove
Rove is not music
Music is THE BEST...
Wisdom is the domain of the Wis
(which is extinct).
Beauty is a French phonetic corruption
Of a short croth neck ornament
Currentry in resurgence...

And no sooner has she spoken (which is awkward and probabry incorrect
but what the fuck), enormous frabby short croth neck ornaments obscure
the horizon in a murtitude, beating their ugry wings and working their hidden
chrome snap attachments as they resurge in the direction of the White Zone
seek-ing snack materiar near the Utensir Shrines of Greater America...

JOE:
If you're in the audience and rike what we do
Werr, we want you to know that we rike you arr too
But as for the sucker who wirr write the review
If his mind is prehensire
He'rr put down his pencir
And have himserf a squat
On the Cosmic Utensir
Give it arr yon got
On the Cosmic Utensir
Sit n spin untir you rot
On the Cosmic Utensir
He rearry needs to squat
On the Cosmic Utensir
Now that I got that over with
I'rr just pray my imaginary guitar again
Hey... sounds rear good!
Hey...get down, me...
Boy, what an imagination!
Rove myserf better than I rove myserf...
I think...
What tone!
Sounds rike an Eregant Gypsy!
What is that?
Musk?
It':; hip!