Lyrics Frank Zappa

Frank Zappa

Conehead

Conehead...she ain't really dumb

She's just a Conehead...'tater chip crumbs

All over her face

Is there any more beer

Stashed away at her place?

She's just a Conehead. . .she can't help herself

"She's a Conehead girl..."

Pitch her a ring

That is the thing

That's getting her hot-uh

A hoop or a ring

Coin' over the top of her Conehead

"She is from a small town in France

'N she's a Conehead kind of girl, kind of guy"

That's what she gives me is-uh Oooh! Conehead

When she's on her knees

The point is so high

I keep sayin' please

Keep it out of my eye, she's a Conehead

(She's a Conehead kind of girl, kind of guy, kind of a girl-thing. . .)

Saturday Night

You're home alone

The TV lights up

As her dad comes home

He's been workin' all day

At the drivin'school

In a stupid-lookin' hat

That he uses to fool

The people of Earth

Who might get back

If they knew he was really

From Remulak, where the

Conehead. . .people are from, where the

Conehead. . .people go to, when the

Conehead. . .people are done with their

Conehead. . .things that are fun

Connie the Cone

Is dressed real neat

Like a teen-age girl

From down the street

But Mom 'n Dad

They don't approve

Carbohydrates

Is all they groove

Connie's eye

Has a tiny tear

But they rinse it away

With a case of beer

A bag of chips

'N fiberglass

Her diet's a riot

I can't keep quiet

I'd love to try it

But I think I'll pass

To eat that kind of stuff they pack

You'd hafta be from Remulak, where the

Conehead. . .people are from, where the

Conehead. . .people go to, when the

Conehead. . .people are done with the

Conehead. . .things that are fun, where the

Conehead. . .people are from, where the

Conehead. . .people go to, when the

Conehead. . .people are done, with the

Conehead. . .things that are fun