Magic Fingers
Frank Zappa
Ooh, the way you love me, lady
I get so hard now I could die
Ooh, the way you love me, sugar
I get so hard now I could die
Open up your pocketbook
Get another quarter out
Drop it in the meter, mama
Try me on for size
Open up your pocketbook
Get another quarter out
Drop it in the meter, mama
Try me on for size
Ooh, the way you squeeze me, baby
Red balloons just pop behind my eyes
Ooh, the way you squeeze me, girl
Red balloons just pop behind my eyes
Open up your pocketbook
Get another quarter out
Drop it in the meter, mama
Try me on for size
Open up your pocketbook
Get another quarter out
Drop it in the meter, mama
Try me on for size
Mark:
Do you really wanna please me?
Howard:
Well, you know I do, babe
Mark:
Well, tell me why you do it
I really wanna know
Howard:
Oh, no, no, it wouldn't be right
For me to tell you tonight
Mark:
You better tell me right away
Or I'll pack up and go
Howard:
Don't get mad
It ain't no big thing
Mark:
You better tell me right away
Don't you treat me cold
Howard:
Hold it, hold it, hold it, hold it
Well
There are a lot of reasons why I'd
I'd drag a girl such as yourself back to this
Plastic hotel room and
Rip you off for spare change to run a
To run a vibrating machine attached to this
Queen-size
Bulk-purchase
Kapok-infested
Do-not-remove-tag-under-penalty-of-law type bed and
And make you take off all your little clothes
Until you were nearly stark raving nude
Save for your chrome-with-heavy-duty-leather-thong Peace Medallion, heh
And make you assume a series of marginally erotic poses involving
A plastic chair and
An old guitar strap while I
Did a wee-wee in your hair and
Beat you with a pair of tennis shoes
I got from Jeff Beck