Frank Zappa — The White Boy Troubles lyrics

Lyrics

De white boy troubles!
(white boy troubles!)
De white boy troubles!
(boy got troubles!)
Oh what a boidennn!
(oh, heavy boidennn!)
His cars fucked up!
De boy got a provlem!
She ripped up de polstry
(wit de red dress on)
Outa dat o-zo-mobile!
(tell me what I say)
Hafta go ta tia-juana now!
(I dont have it)
He should go to brown moses,
Way down in egyppp-lainnn!
(egyppp-lainnn)
Thing-fish: (checking off a clipboard, like a social worker)
Looks likes ydone putty good heahh, harry-as-a-boy! I sees ya growin up like a weed, axmodently reproducin yoseff n evvythang. done found some low-rent housin
in a one-dimensional cardbode
Vity box on some italians funt lawn… bunch o crab-grass underneath de offspring fo quick n easy sanitatium… shit! yall provvly be savin up fo yo
first lava lamp putty soon!
Harry-as-a-boy:
Were incredibly happy! even though Im gay for business purposes,
my relationship with artificial rhonda has blossomed into something really
beautiful, although I must confess to being baffled
W she got knocked up.
Thing-fish:
Well, if de trufe be told, it were de father o de boy at de gas statium…
when ysent de ol lady in fo de inner-tube patchin, round de foth o july.
Harry-as-a-boy:
Quentin? how could he be so unfaithful? Im sure God has ways of punishing
naughty little guys like that!
Thing-fish:
Mights well stop complainin, boy! de damage been done! leastways yall can
pretend to be some kinda daddy! yo rubber bitch aint gwine change no diapers!
ysaid yall was incredibly happy! enj
While ygot it, boy! de shit gwine hit de fan in a minute!
Harry-as-a-boy:
What? something bad is going to happen?
Thing-fish:
You figgit out… judgin fum de intellectional expressium on yo beloveds ignint
face, de bitch gwine be contemplatin a career of her own! see dat?
Look like she got her one good eye on a briefcase n a tweed spot coat down de mall somewheres!
Durin de intromissium, few de sisters seen her tendin a consciousness raisin
meetin over at de hiltum! thass right! bitch passed up de mash potatoes n took
off wit de high school cafeteri
Ch.
Francesco opens the door, and stands on the porch, still watching through the
binoculars.
Thing-fish: (contd.)
Makin matters woise, de italian dat be ownin yo nativity bungalow been wondrin
bouts de hanky an de panky tween you n dem two concrete flamingos ovuh by de steps! you been messin wit de E bird o new jersey, muthafucker! dat kin git you five to life in dis vicinity!
if you wants a little frennly advice, boy, Id be growin my ass up a little
quicker, n whizz on outa heahh!
Leave de ugly baby in de crab-grass, snatch up yo wretched excuse fo a woman,
n climb on up de heap! get yoseff a job drivin a truck fulla string-beans to utah! make sumfin out yseff, sos
N afode a ticket to de mammy nun show! den we can piss all ovuh de adulterated
wimp you gwine become, an get de shit rollin agin!