(Gene Simmons, Frank Zappa) Frank: "Alright kids, here's a real rock 'n roll song" [Verse] Frank says... If everyone says your hair's too long Or else
Now we demand a chance to do things for ourselves We're tired of beatin' our head against the wall And workin' for someone else We're people, we're just
I don't wanna feel no more It's easier to keep falling Imitations are pale Emptiness all Tomorrow's haunted by your ghost Lay down, black gives way
Sometimes I know that it's never enough Survival is fine but satisfaction is rough I try with an Angel tonight Spread these wings and I'm on for the
When the last rose of summer pricks my finger And the hot sun chills me to the bone When I can't hear the song for the singer And I can't tell my pillow
All of my friends come to see me last night I was laying in my bed and dying Annie Bonneau from St. Angel Say the weather down here so fine Just then
Bringing me down, I'm running aground Blind in the light of the interstate cars Passing me by, the buses and semis Plunging like stones from a slingshot
Well, the comic book and me, just us, we caught the bus The poor little chauffeur, though, she was back in bed On the very next day, with a nose full
I know you can feel the magic baby Turn the mother**** lights down Esco whuttup? I mean, it's what you expected ain't it? Let's go Turn the music up
You have your very own number They dress your cage in its nature Once you roared now you just grunt lame Pace around pathetic pound games Wanna get out
Black is the color of my true loves hair His lips are like some roses fair He has the sweetest smile and the gentlest hands And I love the ground whereon
Black is the color of my true love's hair His lips are like some roses fair He has the sweetest smile and the gentlest hands And I love the ground whereon
Hello again, friend of a friend, I knew you when Our common goal was waiting for the world to end Now that the truth is just a rule that you can bend
Ah, yea Black fly, buzzin', buzzin' around Black fly, flyin' from town to town Black fly, lookin' around and around What's he gonna do when he finds
They try to take advantage of a nigga 'cause I'm black They lookin' at me strange, so I'm lookin' at they ass back I got a little problem, so I'm writin
I'm black, whether I'm poor or rich Or rich or poor though it's all the same shit I'm black even though my skin's kind of light That mean my ancestors
CHORUS [PHONTE]: Open the door let me in Teach us all, preach us in, Turn the cheek, let it slide Give me five on the black hand slide [STYLES P]: Give
Time 2:15, the AM Place Ronardo's "Boom-Boom-Room" on South Street I'm a hot blond and it was a cold night This is my story. I ain't ashamed to tell it