It was the blackest night
There was no moon in sight
You know the stars ain't shinin'
'Cause the sky's too tight
I heard the scarey wind
I seen some ugly trees
There was a werewolf honkin'
'Long the aide of me

I'm mean 'n I'm bad, y'know I ain't no sissy
Got a big titty girly by the name of Chrissy
Talkin' about her 'n my bike 'n me...
'N this ride up the Mountain of Mystery, mystery

I noticed even the crickets
Was actin' weird up here
So I figured I might
Just drink a little beer
I said, "Gimme summa that what yer suckin' on . . "
But there was no reply
'Cause she was gone...

"Where's those titties I like so well,
'n' my godam beer!"
Is what I started to yell, then I heard this noise
Like a crunchin' twig, 'n up jumped the Devil , . .
He's about this big , . .

He had a red suit on
An' a widow's peak
An' then a pointed tail
'N like a sulphur reek
Yes, it was him awright,
I swear I knowed it was
He had some human flesh
Stuck underneath his claws
You know, it looked to me
Like it was titty skin
I said, "You sonofabifch!"
'Cause I was mad at him.
Well he just got out the floss
'N started cleanin' his fang
So I shot him with my shooter.
Said: BANG BANG BANG

The sucker just laughed 'n said, "Put it away...
You know, I ate her all up... now what you gonna say?"
YOU ATE MY CHRISSY? "Yeah! titties 'n all!"
WHAT ABOUT THE BEER THEN? "Were the cans this tall?"
EVEN HER BOOTS? "Would I lie to you?"
SHIT, YOU MUSTA BEEN HUNGRY! "Yes, this is true'.
'WELL DON'T THEY PAY Y'ALL GOOD FOR THE
STUFF THAT YOU DO?
"I can't complain when the checks come through . . ''
WELL I WANT MY CHRISSY, 'N I WANT MY BEER
SO YOU JUST BARF IT BACK UP NOW, DEVIL,
DO YOU HEAR!
"Blow it out your ass, motorcycle man! I am fhe Devil,
Do you understand?
Just what will you give me for your titties and beer?
I suppose you noticed this little contract here , . ''
YER GODDAM RIGHT, YOU SON-OF-A-WHORE,
THAT'S ABOUT THE ONLY REASON
I LEARNED WRITIN' FOR...
GIMME THAT PAPER ... BET YER ASS
I'LL SIGN... 'CAUSE I NEED A BEER, 'N IT'S TITTY-
SQUEEZIN' TIME!

"You can't fool me, man... you ain't that bad...
I mean you shoulda seen some of fhe souls I had...
Why there was Milhous Nixon 'n Agnew too...
'n both of fhose suckers was worse 'n you . .
"WELL, LET'S MAKE A DEAL IF YOU THINK THAT'S TRUE
I MEAN, YOU'RE THE DEVIL SO ... WHATCHA GONNA DO?

(improvised dialog)

"No! Don't sign it! Give me time to think ...
I mean ... hold on a minute, boy... that's
Magic Ink!"

And then the Devil puked
'N out jumped m'girl
They heard the titties PLOP-PLOPPIN'
All around the world, she said:
"I GOT ME THREE BEERS 'N A FIST FULLA DOWNS,
AN' I'M GONNA GET WRECKED, SO FUCK YOU CLOWNS!"

And then she gave us the finger,
It was rigid 'n stiff,
That's when the Devil, he farted
An' she went right over the cliff
The Devil was mad took off to my pad
I swear I do declare!
How did she get back there?
I swear I do declare!
How did she get back there?
...

I must be free
My fake I.D.
Freeeeeees me
Gotta do a few things
To make my life complete
I gotta live my life
Out on the street
The difference between us
Is not very far
Cruising for burgers
In daddy's new car
My phony freedom card
Brings to me
Instantly
ECSTASY

Instrumental

[includes a quote from Isn't It Romantic? (Rodgers/Hart)]

Don Pardo: In today's rapidly changing world, musical groups appear almost every day with some new promotional device... Some of these devices have been known to leave irreparable scars on the minds of foolish young consumers... One such case is seated before you... live on stage... yes, Terry Bozzio...
Terry: That's meeee!
Don Pardo: That cute little drummer... Terry recently felt in love with a publicity photo of a boy named Punky Meadows, lead guitar player from a group called ANGEL... In the photo, Punky was seen with a beautiful shiny hairdo in a semi-profile which emphasized the pootched out succulence of his insolent pouting rictus...
Terry: Ooh, Punky...
Don Pardo: The sight of which drove the helpless drummer mad with desire!

I can't stand the way he pouts
('Cause he might not be pouting for me!)
Hah! Pouting for you?
Hah! Punky Meadows? Pouting for you?
His hair's so shiny and it's done real nice
(Til I squirm with ecstasy!)

Punky, Punky, give me your lips
To die on... Oh, Punky, isn't it romantic?

Punky, Punky, give me your lips
To die on... I promise not to come in your mouth
Punky, Punky, your album's the shits
It's all wrong... but listen, this is no laughing matter

I ain't really queer
But if he ever got near
Steven Tyler would PAY to see!
Pay to see

Punky's whips, Punky's whips
His hair's so shiny, I love his hips
I love his teeth, 'n his gums 'n such... PUNKY
(What's up, baby?)
You're an ANGEL...
(Oh, you know that's the kind of stuff that I like to hear)
You're too much

He's been havin' a rash
(No shit)
That keeps the girls away
Skin doom
(Skin doom!)
Is what the doctors say

I wonder if Punky is rehearsin' today
I'll just go over, 'n hear him play
His hair is so pretty... I'd like to bite his neck
I've heard a rumor he's more fluid than Jeff Beck
(Dig this... )
I AIN'T QUEER
I AIN'T GAY
(He's a little fond of chiffon in a wrist array-ee-ay-ee-ay)
A wrist array-he-hey
(That's all it is)

Punky's lips, Punky's lips
Oh, I love his hair, eatin' dunk-y chips
Yes, I love his blink and his blank-blank-blank
Why, maybe he'd like to yank my crank?
YANK IT PUNKY! YANK IT FASTER!
YANK IT HARDER! YANK IT ALL NITE LONG!
COME ON PUNKY! GET FUNKY!

I AIN'T QUEER
(NO NO NO NO)
I AIN'T GAY
(NO NO NO NO)
(He's a little fond of chiffon in a wrist array-he-he-he-hey)
A wrist array-hey
(One more time for the world!)
And then he said:
I AIN'T QUEER
I AIN'T GAY
(He's a little fond of chiffon in a wrist array-ay-hay)

I-I
Lord, I-I'm fo-fo-o-o-nd
Of chiffo-on
In a wrist array-ee-ay-hey
I said
I-I-I-I-I-I-I
I'm a little fo-o-nd
Of chiffo-on
In a wrist array-hey-ay-ay-hey

FZ: Thank you... Our birthday boy, Terry Bozzio, sad but true... Just a minute...

Honey honey
Baby don't you want a man like me
Honey honey
Baby don't you want a man like me
He was the Playboy Type (he smoked a pipe)
His fav'rite phrase was "OUTA-SITE!"
He had an Irish Setter
It was a singles bar, a Tuesday night
The moon was dim, the band was tight
They did the Bump together
What a splendid sight, her teeth were white
The drinks were cheap (it was Ladies Nite)
He was glad that he met her
She was an office girl (her name was Betty)
Her fav'rite group was HELEN REDDY
(They discussed the weather)

CHORUS REPEAT

She was a lonely sort, just a little too short
Her jokes were dumb and her fav'rite sport
Was hockey (in the winter)
He was duly impressed and was quick to suggest
Any sport with a PUCK had to be 'bout the best
As he jabbed his elbow in her (get it honey?)
Later on they went off to where the music was soft.
The candles were drippy, they saw a REAL HIPPY
Who delivered their dinner
The rice was brown, and soon they found
That the crowd around that had jammed the room,
Well it seemed to be getting thinner
CHORUS REPEAT
He took her home to a motor court
She wouldn't kiss him, he tried to ignore it,
But it made him angry!
He called her a slut, a pig and a whore
A bitch and a cunt and she slammed the door
In a petulant frenzy!
On the sofa she weeps
BOO HOO HOO HOO
She weeps and she weeps
BOO HOO HOO HOO HOO HOO
She weeps and she peeps
Through the curtain
He just got in his car
But the battery's dead
So he asks to use the phone
And she gives him some head
And that's the end of the story
CHORUS REPEATS

The Illinois Enema Bandit
I heard he's on the loose
I heard he's on the loose
Lord, the pitiful screams
Of all them college-educated women...
Boy, he'd just be tyin' 'em up
(They'd be all bound down!)
Just be pumpin' every one of 'em up with all the bag fulla
The Illinois Enema Bandit Juice
He just be pumpin' every one of 'em up with all the bag fulla
The Illinois Enema Bandit Juice

(repeat)

The Illinois Enema Bandit ! heard it on the news !
I heard it on the news
Bloomington Illinois ... he has caused some alarm
Just sneakin' around there
From farm to farm
Got a rubberized bag
And a hose on his arm
Lookin' for some rustic co-ed rump
That he just might wanna pump

(repeat)

The Illinois Enema Bandit
Some day he'll have to pay
Some day he'll have to pay
The police will say, "You're under arrest!"
And the judge would have him for a special guest
The D.A. will order a secret test
And stuff his pudgy little thumbs in the side of his vest
Then they'll put out a call for the jury folks
And the judge would say, "No poo-poo jokesl"
Then they'll drag in the bandit for all to see,
Saying "Don't nobody have no sympathy...
HOT SOAPY WATER in the FIRST DEGREE!"
And the Bandit might say, "Why is everbody always pickin' on me?"

WELL DID YOU CAUSE THIS MISERY?
WELL DID YOU CAUSE THIS MISERY?
WELL DID YOU CAUSE THIS MISERY?
One girl shout: "Let the Bandit be!"

BANDIT ARE YOU GUILTY?
TELL ME, WHAT'S YOUR PLEA?
Another girl shout; "Let fhe friend go free!"

ARE YOU GUILTY?
BANDIT, DID YOU DO THESE DEEDS?
"he Bandit say, "It must be just what they all needs . . ''
...

[backing vocals Tina Turner & The Ikettes]

I am gross and perverted
I'm obsessed 'n deranged
I have existed for years
But very little has changed
I'm the tool of the Government
And industry too
For I am destined to rule
And regulate you

I may be vile and pernicious
But you can't look away
I make you think I'm delicious
With the stuff that I say
I'm the best you can get
Have you guessed me yet?
I'm the slime oozin' out
From your TV set

You will obey me while I lead you
And eat the garbage that I feed you
Until the day that we don't need you
Don't go for help... no one will heed you
Your mind is totally controlled
It has been stuffed into my mold
And you will do as you are told
Until the rights to you are sold

That's right, folks...
Don't touch that dial

Well, I am the slime from your video
Oozin' along on your livin' room floor

I am the slime from your video
Can't stop the slime, people, lookit me go

I am the slime from your video
Oozin' along on your livin' room floor

I am the slime from your video
Can't stop the slime, people, lookit me go

FZ: Thank you Don.
Don Pardo: Hey, Frank! Hey, I did it, Frank... Yay, we did it! Didn't we?
FZ: That's right, we did it
Don Pardo: Yay, yay, yay

FZ: And for our next number...

Instrumental

Instrumental

There's a big dilemma
'Bout my Big Leg Emma, uh-huh, oh yeah
There's a big dilemma
'Bout my Big Leg Emma, uh-huh, oh yeah
She used to knock me out
Until her face broke out

There's a big dilemma
'Bout my Big Leg Emma, uh-huh, oh yeah
There's a big dilemma
'Bout my Big Leg Emma, uh-huh, oh yeah
She was my steady date
Until she put on weight
...

Instrumental

Instrumental

Flies all green 'n buzzin' in his dungeon of despair
Prisoners grumble and piss their clothes and scratch their matted hair
A tiny light from a window hole a hundred yards away
Is all they ever get to know about the regular life in the day;
An' it stinks so bad the stones been chokin'
'N weepin' greenish drops
In the room where the giant fire puffer works
'N the torture never stops
The torture never stops

Slime 'n rot, rats 'n snot 'n vomit on the floor
Fifty ugly soldiers, man, holdin' spears by the iron door
Knives 'n spikes 'n guns 'n the likes of every tool of pain
An' a sinister midget with a bucket an' a mop where the blood goes down the drain;

An' it stinks so bad the stones been chokin'
'N weepin' greenish drops
In the room where the giant fire puffer works
'N the torture never stops
The torture never stops
The torture
The torture
The torture never stops.

Flies all green 'n buzzin' in his dungeon of despair
An evil prince eats a steamin' pig in a chamber right near there
He eats the snouts 'n the trotters first
The loin's 'n the groin's is soon dispersed
His carvin' style is well rehearsed
He stands and shouts
All men be cursed
All men be cursed
All men be cursed
All men be cursed
And disagree, well no-one durst
He's the best of course of all the worst
Some wrong been done, he done it first

(Well, well) An' he stinks so bad, his bones been chokin'
(Yeah) 'N weepin' greenish drops,
(Well) In the night of the iron sausage,
(Well) Where the torture never stops
The torture never stops
The torture
The torture
The torture never stops.

Flies all green 'n buzzin' in his dungeon of despair
Who are all those people that he's locked away up there
Are they crazy?,
Are they sainted?
Are they zeros someone painted?,
It has never been explained since at first it was created
But a dungeon like a sin
Requires naught but lockin' in
Of everything that's ever been
Look at hers
Look at him
That's what's the deal we're dealing in
That's what's the deal we're dealing in
That's what's the deal we're dealing in
That's what's the deal we're dealing in

Instrumental