Flakes (Live at Palladium, New York City, NY, 10/28/1977 - Show 1)

The next song we gonna do is called Flakes
This is a song by people who don't do what they are supposed to do
There is a large concentration of these denizens in the state of California
The problem simply stated is simply everyone who moves to California
Moves there to collect unemployment, health welfare or both
And so consequently if they ever find employment gainful employment
They're never really suited to the job that they choose
Like for instance people who supposedly fix televison sets can't fix your television set
The plumbers don't know one pipe from the another
And God help you if you ever try and get your car fixed
This song is for them

Flakes, flakes
Flakes, flakes
They don't do no good
They never be workin' when they oughta should
They waste your time
They're wastin' mine
California's got the most of them
Boy, they got a host of them
Swear to God they got the most
At every business on the coast
Swear to God they got the most
At every business on the coast

Flakes, flakes
They can't fix your brakes
You ask 'em, "Where's my motor?"
"Well it was eaten by snakes"
You can stab 'n' shoot 'n' spit
But they won't be fixin' it
They're lyin' an' lazy
They can be drivin' you crazy
Swear to God they got the most
At every business on the coast
Swear to God they got the most
At every business on the coast
(Take it away, Bob...)
I asked just as nice as I could
If my job would somehow be finished by Friday
Well, the whole damn weekend came 'n' went, Frankie
(Wanna buy some acid, Bob?)
You know what, they ain't do nothing
But they charge me double for Sunday
Well you know no matter what you do
They gonna cheat 'n' rob you
And then they'll send you a bill
That'll get your senses reelin'
And if you do not pay
They got computer collectors
That'll get you so crazy
'Til your head'll go through the ceilin'
Yes it will