Lyrics Frank Zappa

Frank Zappa

Magic Fingers

Ooh, the way you love me, lady,

I get so hard now I could die

Ooh, the way you love me, sugar,

I get so hard now I could die

Open up your pocketbook,

Get another quarter out,

Drop it in the meter, mama

And try me on for size

Open up your pocketbook,

Get another quarter out,

Drop it in the meter, mama

And try me on for size

Ooh, the way you squeeze me, baby,

Red balloons just pop behind my eyes

Ooh, the way you squeeze me, girl,

Red balloons just pop behind my eyes

Open up your pocketbook,

Get another quarter out,

Drop it in the meter, mama

And try me on for size

Open up your pocketbook,

Get another quarter out,

Drop it in the meter, mama

And try me on for size

[Mark:]

Oh, do you really wanna please me?

[Howard:]

You know I do, baby

[Mark:]

Well, tell me why you do it

I really wanna know

[Howard:]

Oh, no, no, I wouldn't be right

For me to tell you tonight

[Mark:]

You better tell me right away

Or I pack up and go!

[Howard:]

Don't get mad

It ain't no big thing

[Mark:]

You better tell me right away,

Don't you treat me cold

[Howard:]

HOLD IT, HOLD IT, HOLD IT, HOLD IT!

Well, there are a lot of reasons why I'd . . . I'd drag a girl such as yourself back to this . . . plastic hotel room and . . . rip you off for spare change to run a . . . to run a vibrating machine attached to this queen-size, bulk-purchase, kapok-infested, do-not-remove-tag-under-penalty-of-law type bed and . . . and make you take off all your little clothes . . . until you are nearly STARK RAVING NUDE! (Save for your chrome-with-heavy-duty-leather-thong Peace Medallion, heh . . . ) And make you assume a series of marginally erotic poses involving . . . a plastic chair and . . . an old guitar strap while I . . . did a wee-wee in your hair and . . . beat you with a pair of tennis shoes . . . I got from Jeff Beck