Punky's Whips - Live
In today's rapidly changing world
Rock groups appear every 14 or 15 minutes utilizing 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
Little skinny Terry "Ted" Bozzio, our cute little drummer (that's me)
Terry recently fell in love with a publicity photo of a boy named Punky Meadows (oh, Punky)
Lead guitar player from a group called Angel
In the photograph, Punky was seen with a beautiful shiny hairdo
In a semi-profile which emphasized the pooched out succulence of his insolent pouting rictus
The sight of which drove the helpless young drummer
Mad with desire
I can't stand the way he pouts
'Cause he might not be pouting for me (pouting for you, you freakin' sailor?)
Oh Punky, please be pouting for me
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
I ain't really queer
But if he ever got near
Steven Tyler would pay to see, pay to see
Punky's lips, Punky's lips
His hair's so shiny, I love his hips
I love his teeth an' his gums an' such
Punky, you're an angel
You're too much
The voice of my thoughts
In my lonely teen-age room
(He's been havin' a rash) No shit
(That keeps the girls away)
(Skin doom) Skin doom
(Is what the doctors say) And that makes me wonder
I wonder if Punky is rehearsin' today
I'll just go over and 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
But I ain't queer
I ain't gay
He's a little fond of chiffon in a wrist array
A wrist array
That's all it is, I swear
Punky's lips, Punky's lips
Oh, I love his hair while eatin' dunk-y chips
Yeah, 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 night 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
Wrist array
And then he told me now
I ain't queer (hey)
I ain't gay (hey)
He's a little fond of chiffon in a wrist array
I, Lord, I'm fond of chiffon
In a wrist array
Oh-oh-oh-oh
I swear I'm fond of chiffon
In a wrist array
Come on, Punky
Funky Punky
Funky Punky
Funky, funky Punky
Rock groups appear every 14 or 15 minutes utilizing 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
Little skinny Terry "Ted" Bozzio, our cute little drummer (that's me)
Terry recently fell in love with a publicity photo of a boy named Punky Meadows (oh, Punky)
Lead guitar player from a group called Angel
In the photograph, Punky was seen with a beautiful shiny hairdo
In a semi-profile which emphasized the pooched out succulence of his insolent pouting rictus
The sight of which drove the helpless young drummer
Mad with desire
I can't stand the way he pouts
'Cause he might not be pouting for me (pouting for you, you freakin' sailor?)
Oh Punky, please be pouting for me
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
I ain't really queer
But if he ever got near
Steven Tyler would pay to see, pay to see
Punky's lips, Punky's lips
His hair's so shiny, I love his hips
I love his teeth an' his gums an' such
Punky, you're an angel
You're too much
The voice of my thoughts
In my lonely teen-age room
(He's been havin' a rash) No shit
(That keeps the girls away)
(Skin doom) Skin doom
(Is what the doctors say) And that makes me wonder
I wonder if Punky is rehearsin' today
I'll just go over and 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
But I ain't queer
I ain't gay
He's a little fond of chiffon in a wrist array
A wrist array
That's all it is, I swear
Punky's lips, Punky's lips
Oh, I love his hair while eatin' dunk-y chips
Yeah, 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 night 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
Wrist array
And then he told me now
I ain't queer (hey)
I ain't gay (hey)
He's a little fond of chiffon in a wrist array
I, Lord, I'm fond of chiffon
In a wrist array
Oh-oh-oh-oh
I swear I'm fond of chiffon
In a wrist array
Come on, Punky
Funky Punky
Funky Punky
Funky, funky Punky
Credits
Writer(s): Frank Zappa
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
Other Album Tracks
Altri album
- Apostrophe (') - 50th Anniversary Super Deluxe
- Penguin In Bondage (Live)
- Approximate-Bale (Live) / Uncle Remus (Piano And Vocal Mix 2024)
- Uncle Remus (Piano And Vocal Mix 2024)
- Live At The Whisky A Go Go 1968
- Dirty Love (With Quad Guitar) / Face Down ("I'm The Slime" Demo) / Fifty-Fifty (Basic Tracks, Take 7)
- Live In Australia 1973
- Fifty-Fifty (Basic Tracks, Take 7)
- Halloween In The Big Apple
- Funky Nothingness
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