| Album notes by FZ
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| This is an album of songs and stories set to music performed for your dining and dancing pleasure by FZ and some of the people he likes to record with.
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| [FZ] Dreamed I was an Eskimo
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| Bop-bop ta-da-da bop-bop ta-da-da
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| Frozen wind began to blow
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| Bop-bop ta-da-da bop-bop ta-da-da
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| Under my boots an’ around my toe
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| Bop-bop ta-da-da bop-bop ta-da-da
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| Frost had bit the ground below
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| Boop-boop aiee-ay-ah!
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| Was a hundred degrees below zero
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| Booh!
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| Bop-bop ta-da-da bop-bop ta-da-da
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| And my momma cried:
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| “Boo-a-hoo hoo-ooo”
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| And my momma cried:
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| “Nanook-a, no, no
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| No, no
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| Nanook-a, no, no
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| No, no
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| Don’t be a naughty Eskimo-wo-oh
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| Bop-bop ta-da-da bop-bop ta-da-da
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| Save your money: don’t go to the show”
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| Well, I turned around an’ I said:
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| “HO HO”
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| Booh!
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| Well, I turned around an’ I said:
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| “HO HO”
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| Booh!
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| Well, I turned around an’ I said:
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| “HO HO”
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| An’ the northern lites commenced t’glow
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| An’ she said
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| Bop-bop ta-da-da bop
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| With a tear in her eye:
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| “WATCH OUT WHERE THE HUSKIES GO
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| AN’ DON’T YOU EAT THAT YELLOW SNOW”
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| “WATCH OUT WHERE THE HUSKIES GO
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| AN’ DON’T YOU EAT THAT YELLOW SNOW”
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| Well, right about that time, people
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| A fur trapper
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| Who was strictly from commercial
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| Strictly commershil
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| Had the unmitigated audacity to jump up from behind my igyaloo
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| Peek-a-boo woo-ooo-ooo
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| And he started in to whippin’ on my fav’rite baby seal
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| With a lead-filled snow shoe…
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|
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| I said:
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| “With a lead…
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| Lead…
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| Filled…
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| Lead-filled…
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| A lead-filled snow shoe”
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| Snow shoe
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| He said “Peek-a-boo”
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| Peek-a-boo
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| “With a lead…
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| Lead…
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| Filled…
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| Lead-filled…
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| With a lead-filled snow shoe…”
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| Snow shoe
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| He said “Peek-a-boo”
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| Peek-a-boo
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|
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| He went right upside the head of my favorite baby seal
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| He went WHAP!
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| With a lead-filled snow shoe…
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| An’ he hit him on the nose an’ he hit him on the fin an’ he…
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|
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| That got me just about as evil as ▶ an Eskimo boy can be
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| So I bent down an’ I reached down an’ I scooped down an’ I gathered up a generous mitten full of the deadly…
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| Yellow snow
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| The deadly yellow snow from right there where the huskies go
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|
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| Whereupon I proceeded to take that mitten full of the deadly yellow snow crystals and rub it all into his beady little eyes with a vigorous circular motion hitherto unknown to the people in this area
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| But destined to take the place of the mud shark ▶ in your mythology
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| Here it goes now…
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| The circular motion… rub it!
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|
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| Here Fido! Here Fido! ▶
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|
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| And then, in a fit of anger, I…
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| I pounced
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| And I pounced again
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| ✄ GREAT GOOGLY-MOOGLY!
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| I jumped up an’ down on the chest of the…
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| I injured the fur trapper
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| Well, he was very upset, as you can understand
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| And rightly so, because
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| The deadly yellow snow crystals
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| Had deprived him of his sight
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| And he stood up
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| And he looked around and he said:
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| “I CAN’T SEE”
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| Do do do-do do do do yeah!
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| “I CAN’T SEE”
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| Do do do-do do do do yeah!
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| “OH WOE IS ME”
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| Do do do-do do do do yeah!
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| “I CAN’T SEE”
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| Do do do-do do do do well!
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|
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| “NO, NO”
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| “I CAN’T SEE”
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| “NO… I…”
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|
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| “He took a dog-doo snow cone an’ stuffed it in my right eye
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| He took a dog-doo snow cone an’ stuffed it in my other eye
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| An’ the huskie wee-wee, I mean, the doggie wee-wee has blinded me
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| An’ I can’t see, temporarily”
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|
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| Well, the fur trapper
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| Stood there
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| With his arms outstretched
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| Across the frozen white wasteland
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| Trying to figure out what he’s gonna do about his deflicted eyes
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| And it was at that precise moment that he remembered an ancient Eskimo legend
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| Wherein it is written
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| On whatever it is that they write it on up there
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| That if anything bad ever happens to your eyes
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| As a result of some sort of conflict with anyone named Nanook
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| The only way you can get it fixed up
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| Is to go trudgin’ across the tundra
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| Mile after mile
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| Trudgin’ across the tundra
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| Right down to the parish of Saint Alfonzo
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| Ah-ah-ah-ah!
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| Yes indeed, here we are!
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|
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| At Saint Alfonzo’s pancake breakfast
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| Where I stole the mar-juh-rene
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| An’ widdled on the bingo cards in lieu of the latrine
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|
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| I saw a handsome parish lady
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| Make her entrance like a queen
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| Why, she was totally chenille and her old man was a Marine
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|
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| As she abused a sausage pattie
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| And said: “Why don’t you treat me mean?”
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| Hurt me, hurt me, hurt me, oooooh!
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|
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| At Saint Alfonzo’s pancake breakfast
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| Hah! Good God! Get off the bus!
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| Where I stole the mar-juh-rene
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|
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| [Instrumental]
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| Saint Alfonzo
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| Saint Alfonzo
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| Saint Alfonzo
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| Saint Alfonzo
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| Ooo-ooo-WAH
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| Get on your feet an’ do the funky Alfonzo!
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|
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| Father Vivian O’Blivion
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| Resplendent in his frock
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| Was whipping up the batter
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| For the pancakes of his flock
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| He was looking rather bleary
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| (He forgot to watch the clock)
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|
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| ‘Cause the night before
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| Behind the door
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| A leprechaun had stroked, yes…
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|
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| The night before
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| Behind the door
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| A leprechaun had stroked…
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| (He stroked it!)
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|
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| The night before
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| Behind the door
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| A leprechaun had stroked his…
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| Sma-ah-ah
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| Ah-ah-ah
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| Ah-ah-ah
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| Ah-ah-ah
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| Ah-ah-ah
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| Ah-ah-ah
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| Ahhh
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| Stroked his smock
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|
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| Which set him off in such a frenzy
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| He sang ✄ “Lock around the crock”
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| An’ he topped it off with a…
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| An’ he topped it off with a…
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| An’ he topped it off with a…
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| WOO WOO WOO
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| WOO WOO WOO
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| WOO WOO WOO
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|
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| As he stumbled on his ****
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| He was delighted as it stiffened
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| And ripped right through his sock
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| “Oh, Saint Alfonzo would be proud of me”
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|
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| He shouted down the block
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| Dominus vo-bisque ‘em ▶
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| Et come spear a tu-tu, oh
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| Won’t you eat my sleazy pancakes
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| Just for Saintly Alfonzo?
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| They’re so light an’ fluffy-white
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| We’ll raise a fortune by tonite
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| They’re so light an’ fluffy-white
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| We’ll raise a fortune by tonite
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| They’re so light an’ fluffy-brown
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| They’re the finest in the town
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| They’re so light an’ fluffy-brown
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| They’re the finest in the town
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| Good morning, Your Highness ▶
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| Ooo-ooo-ooo
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| I brought you your snow shoes ▶
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| Ooo-ooo-ooo
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| Good morning, Your Highness
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| Ooo-ooo-ooo
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| I brought you your snow shoes
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| The mystery man came over
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| An’ he said: “I’m outa-site”
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| He said for a nominal service charge
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| I could reach Nervonna t’nite
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|
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| If I was ready, willing an’ able ▶
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| To pay him his regular fee
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| He would drop all the rest of his pressing affairs
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| And devote his attention to me
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| But I said:
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|
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| “Look here, brother, who you jivin’ with that cosmik debris?
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| Now, who you jivin’ with that cosmik debris?
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| Look here, brother, don’t you waste your time on me”
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|
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| The mystery man got nervous
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| An’ he fidget around a bit
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| He reached in the pocket of his mystery robe
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| An’ he whipped out a shaving kit
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|
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| Now, I thought it was a razor
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| An’ a can of foamin’ goo
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| But he told me right then when the top popped open
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| There was nothin’ his box won’t do
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| With the oil of Afro-Dytee
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| An’ the dust of the Grand Wazoo ▶
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| He said: “You might not believe this, little fella, but it’ll cure your asthma too!”
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| An’ I said:
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|
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| “Look here, brother, who you jivin’ with that cosmik debris?
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| Now, what kind of a geroo are you anyway?
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| Look here, brother, don’t you waste your time on me
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| Don’t waste yer time…”
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| [Instrumental]
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| “I’ve got troubles of my own” I said
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| “An’ you can’t help me out
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| So take your meditations an’ your preparations
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| An’ ram it up yer snout”
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|
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| “BUT I GOT A KRISTL BOL!”
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| He said, an’ held it to the light
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| So I snatched it all away from him
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| An’ I showed him how to do it right
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|
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| I wrapped a newspaper ‘round my head
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| So I’d look like I was Deep
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| I said some mumbo jumbos then
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| An’ told him he was goin’ to sleep
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|
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| I robbed his rings an’ pocket watch
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| An’ everything else I found
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| I had that sucker hypnotized
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| He couldn’t even make a sound
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|
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| I proceeded to tell him his future then
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| As long as he was hanging around
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| I said: “The price of meat has just gone up
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| An’ yer ol’ lady has just gone down”
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| Look here, brother, who you jivin’ with that cosmik debris?
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| (Now, is that a real poncho or is that a Sears poncho? ▶)
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| Don’t you know? You could make more money as a butcher
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| So don’t you waste your time on me
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| Don’t waste it, don’t waste your time on me
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| Ohm shonty, ohm shonty, ohm shonty-ohm
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| SSSHONTAY
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| [FZ] The clouds are really cheap
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| The way I seen ‘em thru the ports
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| Of which there is a half-a-dozen
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| On the base of my resorz
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| You wouldn’t think I’d have too many
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| Since I never cared for sports
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| But I’m never really lonely
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| In my excentrifugal forz
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| There’s always Korla Plankton
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| Him an’ me can play the blues
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| An’ then I’ll watch him buff
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| That tiny ruby that he use
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| He’ll straighten up his turban
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| An’ eject a little ooze
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| Along a one-celled Hammond organism
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| Underneath my shoes
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| An’ then I’ll call Pup Tentacle
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| I’ll ask him how’s his chin
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| I’ll find out how the future is
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| Because that’s where he’s been
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| His little feet got long an’ flexible
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| An’ suckers fell right in
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| The time he crossed the line
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| From “later on” to “way back when”
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| [FZ & Susan Glover] Woh, are we movin’ too slow?
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| Have you seen us, Uncle Remus?
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| [FZ] We look pretty sharp in these clothes
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| (Yes we do)
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| Unless we get sprayed with a hose
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| It ain’t bad in the day
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| If they squirt it your way
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| ‘Cept in the winter, when it’s froze
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| An’ it’s hard if it hits on yer nose
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| [Susan Glover] On yer nose
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| [FZ & Susan Glover] Just keep yer nose to the grindstone, they say
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| Will that redeem us, Uncle Remus?
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| I can’t wait till my fro is full-grown
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| I’ll just throw ‘way my doo-rag at home
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| I’ll take a drive to Beverly Hills, just before dawn
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| An’ knock the little jockeys off the rich people’s lawn
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| An’ before they get up I’ll be gone, I’ll be gone
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| Before they get up I’ll be knocking the jockeys off the lawn
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| Down in the dew ▶
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| [Instrumental]
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| [FZ] In the dark, where all the fevers grow
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| Under the water, where the shark bubbles blow
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| In the mornin’, by yer radio
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| Do the walls close in t’suffocate ya?
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| You ain’t got no friends an’ all the others, they hate ya
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| Does the life you’ve been livin’ gotta go, hmmm?
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|
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| Well, lemme straighten you out about a place I know
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| (Get yer shoes an’ socks on, people, it’s right aroun’ the corner)
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| Out through the night an’ the whispering breezes
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| To the place where they keep the imaginary diseases
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| Out through the night an’ the whispering breezes
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| To the place where they keep the imaginary diseases
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| This has to be the disease for you
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| Now, scientists call this disease… bromhidrosis
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| But us regular folks, who might wear tennis shoes or an occasional python boot ▶, know this exquisite little inconvenience by the name of… STINK FOOT
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| Y’know, my python boot is too tight
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| I couldn’t get it off last night
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| A week went by, an’ now it’s July
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| I finally got it off an’ my girlfriend cry:
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| “You got STINK FOOT!
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| Stink foot, darlin’
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| Your stink foot puts a hurt on my nose!
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| Stink foot! Stink foot! I ain’t lyin’
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| Can you rinse it off, d’you suppose?”
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| Here Fido! Fido! ▶
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| C’mere little puppy, bring the slippers
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| “Arf arf arf”
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| Heh heh heh, SICK!
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| [Instrumental]
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| Well, then Fido got up off the floor an’ he rolled over an’ he looked me straight in the eye, an’ you know what he said?
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| “Once upon a time somebody say to me”
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| This is a dog talkin’ now “What is your conceptual continuity?
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| Well, I told him right then” Fido said “It should be easy to see
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| The crux of the biscuit is the apostrophe (’)”
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|
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| Well, you know, the man who was talkin’ to the dog looked at the dog an’ he said (sort of staring in disbelief ▶):
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| “You can’t say that!”
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| He said:
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| “It doesn’t, an’ you can’t, I won’t, an’ it don’t
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| It hasn’t, it isn’t, it even ain’t, an’ it shouldn’t
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| It couldn’t”
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| He told me: “NO, NO, NO!”
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| I told him: “YES, YES, YES!”
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| I said: “I do it all the time, ain’t this boogie a mess!”
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[Chorus] THE POODLE BY-EE-ITES ▶
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THE POODLE CHEWS IT
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[Repeat]
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 Photo by Emerson-Loew.jpg "(Front) Photo by Emerson-Loew")
.jpg "(LP back)")
Title origin |
Songs list
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