The 'torchum' Never Stops Lyrics - Frank Zappa

Frank zappa (guitar, synclavier) 

Steve vai (guitar) 

Ray white (guitar, vocals) 

Tommy mars (keyboards) 

Chuck wild (piano) 

Arthur barrow (bass) 

Scott thunes (bass) 

Jay anderson (string bass) 

Ed mann (percussion) 

Chad wackerman (drums) 

Ike willis (vocals) 

Terry bozzio (vocals) 

Dale bozzio (vocals) 

Napoleon murphy brock (vocals) 

Bob harris (vocals) 

Johnny guitar watson (vocals) 

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Thing-fish: 

Now, dis nasty sucker is de respondable party fo de en-whiffment o' de origumal potium. through de magik o' stage-kraff, we be able to see him at woik! 

He now be preparin' some ugly shit to make yo' life even mo' mizzable den it awready are, since dis batch be resigned to render him immortal! we does not know if it gwine woik yet, but we kin al 

Hope fo' de best! 

Thing-fish: (singing) 

Flies all green 'n buzznin' 

In his dunjing of despair 

Prisoners grummle an' piss dey' clothes 

'n scratch dey' matted hair 

A tiny light fum a window-hole 

A hunnit yards away 

Is all dey ever gets t'know 

'bouts de reg'luh life in de day 

Photos 

An' it stink so bad, de stones been chokin' 

'n weepin' greenish drops 

In de room where de giant fowah-puffer woikin', 

'n de torchum never stops 

De torchum never stops 

De torchum, 

De torchum, 

De torchum never stops 

(go on, 'dewlla! play dat lil' guitar one mo'gin!) 

(spoken) 

Uh-oh! I smells trubba! he be messin' wit pigmeat heahhh! muthafucker be rejectin' some co-log- nuh directly into de duo-deenum of de unsuspecting victim! now he gone see if he immune to it by e 

A dab hisseff! 

(singing) 

Flies all green an' buzznin' 

In his dunjing of despair 

An evil prince eats a steamin' pig 

In a chamber, right near dere 

He eat de snouts an' de trotters foist! 

De loins an' de groins I'd soon re-spersed 

His carvin' style I'd well re-hoist 

He stan' 'n shout: 

All main be coist! 

All main be coist! 

All main be coist! 

All main be coist! 

An' dis-ergree? well, no one durst... 

He de best, of cose, of all de woist 

Some wrong been done, he done it foist... 

An' he stink so bad, his bones been chokin' 

And weepin' greenish drops, 

In de vat of galoot co-log-nuh, 

Where de re-zease be berlin' up 

Berlin' an' uh boilin' up 

Co-log-nuh! 

Co-log-nuh! 

Galoot co-log-uh-nuh! 

Thing-fish: (spoken) 

Oh! do yoseff a favum 'n don't use it! oooooooh! look at these ugly suckers! boy, when white folks come back fum bein' dead, they sho' gets scary-lookin'! but don't take their appearance too ser 

Y, people, 'cause dey say dis de sort o' folks dat belongs on broadway! the broadway zombies collect around the evil prince, who suddenly suspects the presence of an intruder. after taking a lar 

Te from an onion he sings... 

Evil prince: (singing) 

Somewhere, over there, I can tell, 

There's a voice of 

A potato-headed whatchamacallit 

Who does not wish me well! 

His clothes are quite stupid, 

And also his shoes! 

He's got a big ol' duck-mouth! 

(who knows how he chews!) 

He thinks he knows something 

About the great plan! 

How ultimate blandness 

Must rule and command 

He knows not a drop, 

Not a crumb, 

Not a whit, 

Of the reason for doing 

This criminal shit 

And then, if he did, 

Would it matter a bit? 

Not at all! 

Because it is writ: 

Our beige-blandish god 

Tends to certify it: 

Only the boring and bland shall survive! 

Only the lamest of lameness will thrive! 

Take it or leave it, you won't be alive, 

If you are overtly creative! 

Fairies and faggots and queers are 

'creative' 

All the best music on broadway is 

'native' 

Who will step forward 

And end all this trouble? 

For beige-blandish citizens, 

Clutching the rubble 

Of vanishing dreams 

Of wimpish amusement, 

Replaced by a rash 

Of 'creative' confusement! 

Soon, my brave zombies, 

You'll make your return! 

Broadway will glow! 

Broadway will burn! 

(along with the remnants of 

Everything new) 

My holy disease will do 

Wonders for you! 

Those lovely producers 

Who paid for you 'then' 

Will do it again, and again, and again! 

Evil prince: (singing to the zombies) 

The spying potato 

With horrible diction 

Will rot in the garbage 

When this show's eviction 

Takes place shortly after 

My alternate skill 

Of theatrical sabotage 

Triumphs your will! 

I've a special review 

I've been saving for years 

For a show just like this, 

With potatoes and queers 

I'll say it's disgusting, atrocious, and dull 

I'll say it makes boils inside of your skull 

I'll say it's the worst-of-the-worst of the 

Year, 

No wind down the plain, and it's hard on your 

Ear 

I'll say it's the work of an infantile mind 

I'll say that it's tasteless, and that you will 

Find 

A better excuse to spend money or time 

At a tupper-ware party, 

So, do be a smarty! 

Hold on to that dollar 

A little while longer 

For spending it here, 

Why, it couldn't be wronger! 

What's happened to broadway? 

Where's it gone, all the glitter? 

The 'heart' and the 'soul' 

The patter? 

The pitter? 

And after this deadly review hits the paper, 

In will come roper, bender & raper, 

To legally execute all that remains 

Of this tragic amusement for drug-addled brains 

Thing-fish: (singing) 

Flies all green an' buzznin' 

In his dunjing of despair 

Who are all o' dem zombies 

Dat he fuckin' wit down dere? 

Are dey crazy? 

Are dey sainted? 

Are dey stage-kraff someone painted? 

It have never been explained, 

Since at first it were created, 

But, a musical, like we's in, 

Require a whole bunch o' everythin'! 

We talkin' everythin' dat ever been! 

Look at her! 

Look at him! 

Dat what de deal we dealin' in 

Dat what de deal we dealin' in 

Dat what de deal we dealin' in 

Dat what de deal we dealin' in