Lyrics Packard Goose - Frank Zappa
Maybe
you
thought
I
was
the
packard
goose
(da,
da-da,
da-da)
Or
the
Ronald
MacDonald
of
the
nouveau-abstruse
Well,
fuck
all
them
people,
I
don′t
need
no
excuse
For
bein'
what
I
am,
do
you
hear
me,
then?
All
them
rock
′n
roll
writers
is
the
worst
kind
of
sleaze
(da,
da-da,
da-da)
Sellin'
punk
like
some
new
kinda
Binglish
disease
Is
that
the
wave
of
the
future?
Oh,
spare
me
please!
(Ou-ou)
Oh
no,
you
gotta
go
Who
do
you
write
for?
I
wanna
know
I
believe
you
is
the
government's
whore
And
keepin′
peoples
dumb
(I′m
really
dumb)
Is
where
you're
comin′
from
And
keepin'
peoples
dumb
(I′m
really
dumb)
Is
where
you're
coming
from
Fuck
all
them
writers
with
the
pen
in
their
hand
(da,
da-da,
da-da)
I
will
be
more
specific
so
they
might
understand
They
can
all
kiss
my
ass
but
because
it′s
so
grand
They
best
just
stay
away,
ah,
hey,
hey,
hey
Hey,
Joe,
who
did
you
blow?
Moe
pushed
the
button
boy
And
you
went
to
the
show
Better
suck
a
little
harder
or
the
shekels
won't
flow
And
I
don't
mean
your
thumb
So
on
your
knees
you
bum
Just
tell
yourself
it′s
yum
And
suck
it
′til
you're
numb
Journalism′s
kinda
scary
And
of
it
we
should
be
wary
Wonder
what
became
of
Mary?
Hi!
It's
me,
the
girl
from
the
bus
Remember
the
last
tour?
Well,
information
is
not
knowledge
Knowledge
is
not
wisdom
Wisdom
is
not
truth
Truth
is
not
beauty
Beauty
is
not
love
Love
is
not
music
Music
is
the
best
Wisdom
is
the
domain
of
the
wits
which
is
extinct
Beauty
is
a
French
phonetic
corruption
of
a
short
cloth
Neck
ornament
currently
in
resurgence
If
you′re
in
the
audience
and
like
what
we
do
(da,
da-da,
da-da)
Well,
we
want
you
to
know
that
we
like
you
all
too
But
as
for
the
sucker
who
will
write
the
review
If
his
mind
is
prehensile
He'll
put
down
his
pencil
And
have
himself
a
squat
on
the
Cosmic
Utensil
(Cosmic
Utensil)
Go
give
it
all
you
got
on
the
Cosmic
Utensil
(Cosmic
Utensil)
Sit
and
spin
until
you
rot
on
the
Cosmic
Utensil
(Cosmic
Utensil)
He
really
needs
to
squat
on
the
Cosmic
Utensil(Cosmic
Utensil,
Cosmic
Utensil)
Now
that
I
got
that
over
with
I′ll
just
play
my
imaginary
guitar
again
Hey
Soundin'
pretty
good,
baby,
yeah
Uh,
get
down
Uh
(Hoora-ra-y-rah)
Boy,
what
an
imagination!
(Hoora-ra-y-ra-y-rah)
(Hoora-ra-y-rah)
Love
myself
better
than
I
love
myself
(Hoora-ra-y-ra-y-rah)
I
think
(Hoora-ra-y-rah)
What
tone!
(Hoora-ra-y-ra-y-rah)
Sounds
like
an
elegant
gypsy
(Hoora-ra-y-rah)
What
is
that?
Musk?
(Hoora-ra-y-ra-y-rah)
It's
hip!
(Hoora-ra-y-rah)
(Hoora-ra-y-ra-y-rah)
(Hoora-ra-y-rah)
(Hoora-ra-y-ra-y-rah)
(Hoora-ra-y-rah)
(Hoora-ra-y-ra-y-rah)
![Frank Zappa - Joe's Garage: Acts I, II & III](https://pic.Lyrhub.com/img/l/2/n/0/521z9d0n2l.jpg)
1 Crew Slut
2 Scrutinizer Postlude
3 Fembot In A Wet T-Shirt
4 Why Does It Hurt When I Pee?
5 Watermelon In Easter Hay
6 Catholic Girls
7 The Central Scrutinizer
8 Joe's Garage
9 On The Bus
10 Lucille Has Messed My Mind Up
11 A Token Of My Extreme
12 Stick It Out
13 Sy Borg
14 Dong Work For Yuda
15 Keep It Greasey
16 Outside Now
17 He Used To Cut The Grass
18 Packard Goose
19 A Little Green Rosetta
Attention! Feel free to leave feedback.