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)
Thing-fish:
Once upon a time, musta been ’round october, few years back, in one o’ dose
top secret lab-motories de gubbnint keep stashed away underneath virginia, an
evil prince, occasion’ly employed as a p
Ime theatrical criticizer set to woikin’ on a plot fo de systematic
genocidical remove’lance of all unwanted highly-rhythmic individj’lls an’
sissy-boys!
De cocksucker done whiffed up a secret potium... an’ right ’long wid it, de
atrocious idea dat what he been boilin’ up down deahhhh jes’ mights be de
final solutium to de white main’s ’boidennn’
Yo’ acquire my drift...
Well, he were sure he had a good thing goin’... but, dere was always de
possobility dat somethin’ might fuck up, so, he planned to have a little
test, jes’ to check it all out befo’ he dump’t it
E wattuh supply.
Sho’tly denafter, wit high-level gubnint co-robberatium, he arranged to have
a good-will visit to san quentim, ’long wit some country-westin mu-
zishnin’s, ’n sprinkle a little bit of it on some
E boys in deahhh (since dey done used a few of ’em befo’ when dey was
messin’ wit de zyph’liss).
So, heah dey come wit de potium, dump’nit all in de mash potatoes!
Den dey wen’ up to de warden’s office fo’ some hot toddy, watchin’ a
little football while dey’s waitin’ to see what gone happen!
Fact o’ de matter were: nothin’ happened, so dey went off’n dribbled it
in a special shipnint of galoot co-log-nuh dat went out ’bouts november!
Next thing y’know, fagnits be droppin’ off like flies...’long wit a large
number of severely-tanned individj’lls, pre-zumnably of hay’chen
extrakment!
But not de boys in de rest home! oh no! mixin’ de shit wit de mash potatoes
done smoothed it out a little, so’s it wouldn’t kill yo’ ass, but, it
sho’ would make y’ugly! ’n ef y’was already ugly
D make yo ass mean ’n ugly...’n ef you was already mean ’n ugly, it’d
turn ya into a strange, unknown kreetchuh, never befo’ seen on
broadway!^lthass right! it’d turn ya’ into a ’mammy nun’! hea
E a potato...lips like a duck...big ol’ hands, puffin’ up! big ones!
science! me-jev’l re-lij-mus costumery all over yo’ body! yow! oh yeah!
mmmm-hmmm!