Various Finale Lyrics

Finale Lyrics

Feed me.  Feed me. Feed me.
Feed me, Seymour.  Feed me all night
long.
(That's right, boy! You can do it!)
Feed me, Seymour.  Feed me all
night long.  (Ha, ha, ha, ha ha.)
'Cause if you feed me, Seymour, I can grow
up big and strong.
Would you like a Cadillac car?
Or a guest shot on Jack
Paar?
How about a date with Hedy Lamarr?
You gonna git it.  (If you want
it, baby.)
How would you like to be a big wheel,
dinin' out for every
meal?
I'm the plant to make it all real.
You gonna git it.
Hey, I'm
your genie, I'm your friend.  I'm your willing slave.
Take a chance.  Feed
me, eh?  You know what kinda eats,
what kinda red hot treats, what kinda
sticky licky sweets I crave.
Come on, Seymour, don't be a putz.
Trust me
and your life will surely rival King Tut's.
Show a little initiative, boy. 
Work up some guts
and you'll git it.
(I don't know.  I don't know.
I
have so, so many strong reservations.
Should I go and perform
mutilations?)
Think about a room at the Ritz,
wrapped in velvet, covered
in glitz.
A little nookie gonna clean up those zits
and you'll git
it.
(Gee, I'd like a Harley machine,
toolin' around like I was James
Dean,
makin' all the guys on the corner turn green.)
So go git it.
If
you want to be profound, if you really got to justify,
take a whiff and look
around.  A lot of folks deserve to die.
Stupid woman.  Christ, what a
friggin' scatterbrain.
I'm sorry, doctor.
Falls off the motorcycle.
If
you want a rationale, it isn't very hard to see, no, no, no.
Stop and think
it over, pal.  The guy sure looks like plant foot to me.
The guy sure looks
like plant food to me.
The guy sure looks like plant food to me.
He's so
nasty, treatin' her rough,
smackin' her around and always talkin' so
tough.
(You need blood and he's got more than enough.)
I need blood and
he's got more than enough.
I/(You) need blood and he's got more than
enough.
So go git it!