[FZ synclavier



Crab-Grass Baby:



Stroke me pompadour, pompaduooor, pompaduooor, pompaduooor. Stroke me pompadour, father. Stroke it nicely while I tell you about the problems I am having with my car an my girlfriend. Ooo-wo-woo, the white man's burden!



Her and her girlfriend used to go out and booze it up and tear up the upholstery; rip the seats completely out, and so I got a fifty-six Olds. About the time I got it running decently, she got in it and wrecked the trans . . . tore it completely up, so I had to get another Oldsmobile (either that or go to Tijuana or go to BROWN MOSES way down in Egypt-Land). It's so hard on a child when his car is fucked up. Buy me a Volvo, faaather.



Harry-As-A-Boy:



Isn't it terrific, artificial RHONDA!



Crab-Grass Baby:



One-Adam-Twelve . . . see the enormous white pompadour! Ha-Ha-ha-ho! That's a good one! Hoo-hoo-hoo.



Harry-As-A-Boy:



He's so young, and yet, SO WISE!



Crab-Grass Baby:



I pooped my pants, pooped my pants, pooped my pants! I went doody, faaather, sob-sob-sob-sob-sob.



Harry-As-A-Boy:



His vocabulary is astonishing!



Crab-Grass Baby:



So what if you suck a little cock every once in a while?



Harry-As-A-Boy:



Ohhh . . . I'm so lucky to have a son like this . . .



Crab-Grass Baby:



Barf me out . . . gag me with a Volvo!



Harry-As-A-Boy:



I can't wait to show him to all the fellas down at the MINE-SHAFT!



Crab-Grass Baby:



Take me to the movies. Buy me a balloon. Stroke me pompadour!



Harry-As-A-Boy:



Look! Look! Look at the pecker on him, wouldja! Goodjy-goodjy-goodjy-goo! Hoo hoo hoo!



Thing-Fish:



Dis boy have