Frank Zappa (guitar)

Tony Duran (slide guitar)

George Duke (tack piano)

Sal Marquez (trumpet, vocals)

Chris Peterson (vocals)

Joel Peskin (tenor saxophone)

Mike Altschul (baritone saxophone, piccolo)

Erroneous (electric bass)

Aynsley Dunbar (drums)



Your mouth is your religion.

You put your faith in a hole like that?

You put your trust and your belief

Above your jaw, and no relief

Have I found.



I heard your story when you come home

You said you went to see your sister last night.

Well, you might loose a bunch of teeth

And find a funeral wreath

While you'll be laying in the ground

All alone



So tell me where are you coming from

With all them lines

As you stumble in at the breakin' of the day.

Where are you coming from, my shot-gun say

Because he just might want to blow you away

'cause he just might want to blow you away



An evil woman, can make ya cry

If you believe her every time she lies

Well you can be a big fool

If she makes you loose your cool, and so

I've got me some advice you should try



Just let her talk a little

Just let her talk a little more

Just... let her talk a little more

And when she runs out of words

Just say the same thing that I told you before...



Tell me where are you coming from

With all them lines

As you stumble in at the breakin' of the day.

Where are you coming from, my shot-gun say

Because he just might want to blow you away

'cause he just might want to blow you away