
Man with the Woman Head Frank Zappa (Ft. Captain Beefheart & The Mothers of Invention)
On this page, discover the full lyrics of the song "Man with the Woman Head" by Frank Zappa (Ft. Captain Beefheart & The Mothers of Invention). Lyrxo.com offers the most comprehensive and accurate lyrics, helping you connect with the music you love on a deeper level. Ideal for dedicated fans and anyone who appreciates quality music.

[Verse]
Are you with me on this, people?
The man with the woman head
Polynesian wallpaper made the face stand out
A mixture of Oriental and early vaudeville jazz poofter
Forming a hard, beetle-like, triangular chin much like a praying mantis
Smoky razor-cut, low on the ear neck profile
The face the color of a nicotine-stained hand
Dark circles collected under the wrinkled, folded eyes
Map-like from too much turquoise eyepaint
He showed his old tongue through ill-fitting wooden teeth
Stained from too much opium, chipped from the years
The feet, brown wrinkles above straw loafers
A piece of coconut in a pink seashell caught the tongue and knotted into thin white strings
Charcoal grey Eisenhower jacket zipped into a loaded green ascot
A coil of ashes collected on the white-on-yellow daks
Four slender bones with rings and nails endured the weight of a hard fast black rubber cigarette holder
I could just make out Ace as he carried the tray and mouthed
"You cheap son of a bitch" as a straw fell out of a Coke, cartwheeled into the gutter
So this was a drive-in restaurant in Hollywood
So this was a drive-in restaurant in Hollywood
So this was a drive-in restaurant in Hollywood
Are you with me on this, people?
The man with the woman head
Polynesian wallpaper made the face stand out
A mixture of Oriental and early vaudeville jazz poofter
Forming a hard, beetle-like, triangular chin much like a praying mantis
Smoky razor-cut, low on the ear neck profile
The face the color of a nicotine-stained hand
Dark circles collected under the wrinkled, folded eyes
Map-like from too much turquoise eyepaint
He showed his old tongue through ill-fitting wooden teeth
Stained from too much opium, chipped from the years
The feet, brown wrinkles above straw loafers
A piece of coconut in a pink seashell caught the tongue and knotted into thin white strings
Charcoal grey Eisenhower jacket zipped into a loaded green ascot
A coil of ashes collected on the white-on-yellow daks
Four slender bones with rings and nails endured the weight of a hard fast black rubber cigarette holder
I could just make out Ace as he carried the tray and mouthed
"You cheap son of a bitch" as a straw fell out of a Coke, cartwheeled into the gutter
So this was a drive-in restaurant in Hollywood
So this was a drive-in restaurant in Hollywood
So this was a drive-in restaurant in Hollywood
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