
Sam with the Showing Scalp Flat Top Frank Zappa (Ft. Captain Beefheart & The Mothers of Invention)
На этой странице вы найдете полный текст песни "Sam with the Showing Scalp Flat Top" от Frank Zappa (Ft. Captain Beefheart & The Mothers of Invention). Lyrxo предлагает вам самый полный и точный текст этой композиции без лишних отвлекающих факторов. Узнайте все куплеты и припев, чтобы лучше понять любимую песню и насладиться ею в полной мере. Идеально для фанатов и всех, кто ценит качественную музыку.

[Refrain]
Sam with the showing scalp flat top
Particular about the point it made
[Verse]
(Ah, God..)
Why, when I was knee-high to a grasshopper
This black juice came out on a hard shelled chin
And they called that 'tobacco juice'
I used to fiddle with my back feet music for a black onyx
My entire room absorbed every echo
The music was... thud like
The music was... thud like
I usually played such things as rough-neck and thug
Opaque melodies that would bug most people
Music from the other side of the fence
A black swan figurine lay on all color lily pads
On a little conglomeration table of pressed black felt
With same color shadows, in seamed knobbed knees, and what-nots
The long hallway rolled out into oddball odd
Beside the fly-pecked black doorway
That looked closed on the tar-lattice street
Up a wrought iron fire escape
Rolled out a tiny wooden platform with dark, hard, dark rubber wheels
Roll, skreek! Roll, skreek! Roll, skreek!
Sam with the showing scalp flat top
Particular about the point it made
[Verse]
(Ah, God..)
Why, when I was knee-high to a grasshopper
This black juice came out on a hard shelled chin
And they called that 'tobacco juice'
I used to fiddle with my back feet music for a black onyx
My entire room absorbed every echo
The music was... thud like
The music was... thud like
I usually played such things as rough-neck and thug
Opaque melodies that would bug most people
Music from the other side of the fence
A black swan figurine lay on all color lily pads
On a little conglomeration table of pressed black felt
With same color shadows, in seamed knobbed knees, and what-nots
The long hallway rolled out into oddball odd
Beside the fly-pecked black doorway
That looked closed on the tar-lattice street
Up a wrought iron fire escape
Rolled out a tiny wooden platform with dark, hard, dark rubber wheels
Roll, skreek! Roll, skreek! Roll, skreek!
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