"To Defy The Laws of Tradition"
m. Les Claypool, Todd Huth, Tim "Herb" Alexander
l. Les Claypool

Frizzle Fry (1990), They Can't All Be Zingers (2006)


What if Christmas didn't come this year and no one paid for Christmas cheer?
Who would cry the biggest tear, the child or the store?
Why do brides wear virgin white? Most do not deserve that right
But to choose a color of their delight would surely bring on the frowns
To defy the laws of tradition is a crusade only of the brave
Suppose the taxman, he comes to town, and you don't lay your money down
Yet Mr. Jones he killed Mr. Brown the other day
Well, I wonder, who's gonna go to hell


"Groundhog's Day"
m. Les Claypool, Todd Huth, Tim "Herb" Alexander
l. Les Claypool

Suck On This! (1989), Frizzle Fry (1990)


When I woke up this mornin' I felt a pang, I was hungerin' for some apple pie
Stumble in the bathroom, hung my hog a little bit, washed the sleep out of my eye
Oh yeah, it's gonna be a fine day
Scratched myself a bit, poured me out a bowl-a corn chex
Closest thing I could find to apple pie
Lingerin' taste of toothpaste made the milk go down a bit funny,
But you know, them chex they do satisfy
Oh yeah, this'll be a fine day
So, after my mornin' rise-n-shine and eat-n-clean, had my mind set to hit them streets
Drizzle from the night left cold puddles out
Had my black stomp-boots on my feet, it's my day
Since I was in kneepants, my pop had tried to make me realize
If I set my mind down to it, I could be a big man in the public eye
So with my big blue collar on, I set out to find the easy way
What an ice cold bath it was when I found you had to pay to play
To taste the taste, it's a tease that never would subside
The taste is strong, but soured by my learned eyes
Well, if a woodchuck could chuck wood, he'd get down on his knees to pray
This little snappy boy might see the light this ground hog's day


"Too Many Puppies"
m. Les Claypool, Larry Lalonde, Tim "Herb" Alexander
l. Les Claypool

Frizzle Fry (1990), Rhinoplasty (1998), They Can't All Be Zingers (2006)


Too many puppies are being shot in the dark
Too many puppies are trained not to bark.
At the sight of blood that must be spilled so that we may maintain our oil fields.
Too many puppies.
Too many puppies are taught to heal, too many puppies are trained to kill.
On the command of men wearing money belts
That buy mistresses sleek animal pelts.
Too many puppies.
Too many puppies with guns in their hands, too many puppies in foreign lands
Are dressed up sharp in suits of green and placed upon the war machine.
Too many puppies are just like me, too many puppies are afraid to see.
The visions of the past brought to life again, too many puppies, too many dead men.


"Mr. Knowitall"
m. Les Claypool, Larry Lalonde, Tim "Herb" Alexander
l. Les Claypool

Frizzle Fry (1990)


They call me Mr. Knowitall, I will not compromise.
I will not be told what to do, I shall not step aside.
They call me Mr. Knowitall, I have no time to waste.
My mouth it spews pure intellect and I've such elegant taste.
They call me Mr. Knowitall, I sip the aged wine.
Oh I could tell such wondrous tales if I should find the time.
I must be Mr. Knowitall, for ideas they come in bounds.
I am Mr. Knowitall, so spread the word around.
They call me Mr. Knowitall, I am so eloquent.
Perfection is my middle name and whatever rhymes with eloquent.


"Frizzle Fry"
m. Les Claypool, Todd Huth, Tim "Herb" Alexander
l. Les Claypool

Suck On This! (1989), Frizzle Fry (1990)


Hello all you boys and girls, I'd like to take you to the inside world
It's quite an irregular place to be, but never fear you're safe with me, well, maybe
Golden hair of macrame' against the face that's cut from stone
The white porcelain is screaming Ayee, thank God the the boy is not alone
I don't believe in Santa Claus, I don't believe in spite
I have no use for beauty dolls, especially on this night
I don't believe in miracles, I don't believe in lies
I don't believe in hologram, for I am the Frizzle Fry
Andy's painting green again, this time they might take him away
When Barrington starts to breathe again, it way just take us all away
I don't believe in charity, I don't believe in sin
And if you don't believe in me, we'll play this tune over again
I don't believe in pinochle and I don't believe I'll try
I do believe in Captain Crunch, for I am the Frizzle Fry, yes I am the Frizzle Fry.


"John The Fisherman"
m. Les Claypool, Todd Huth, Tim "Herb" Alexander
l. Les Claypool

Suck On This! (1989), Frizzle Fry (1990), They Can't All Be Zingers (2006)


When he was young, you'd not find him doing well in school
His mind would turn unto the waters.
Always the focus of adolescent ridicule, he has no time for farmer's daughters.
Alienated from the clique society, a lonely boy finds peace in fishing.
His mother says,
"John this is not the way life's supposed to be
Don't you see the life that you are missing?"
And he says..."When I grow up I want to be, one of the harvesters of the sea.
I think before my days are done, I want to be a fisherman."
Now years gone by we find man that rules the sea
He sets out on a dark May morning.
To bring his catch back to this small community, he doesn't see the danger dawning.
Four hours up, oh the ocean swelled and swelled, the fog rolled in it started raining.
"The starboard bow. Oh my God we're going down!"
They do not hear his frantic mayday.
And he says..."When I grow up I want to be one of the harvesters of the sea.
I think before my days are done, I want to be a fisherman.
I'll live and die a fisherman." Calling John the Fisherman.


"You Can't Kill Michael Malloy"
m. Matt Winegar
Frizzle Fry (1990)


Instrumental

"The Toys Go Winding Down"
m. Les Claypool, Larry Lalonde, Todd Huth, Tim "Herb" Alexander
l. Les Claypool

Frizzle Fry (1990)


An overaged boy of thirty-nine has left the wing today
The first time in his life he's made that step
Be numbed by the society and plagued by insecurity
He's entered in a race that must be won
One of the animals has left its cage today in search of better things so it seems to be
But in this land of polyurethane, things are apt to get a bit hot
As the toys go winding down
C.G. the Mexican is a friend of mine
We used to sit around the house watching Evil Dead
Talking about the way it used to be.
We used to pull the stripers out of Sand Pablo bay
Now the delta waters go down So. Cal. and the stripers start to fade away
It's pudding time! It's pudding time!
As the toys go winding down


"Pudding Time"
m. Les Claypool, Larry Lalonde, Tim "Herb" Alexander
l. Les Claypool

Suck On This! (1989), Frizzle Fry (1990)


You can have a lolly pop, a candy bar a jelly bean
I'll buy you a rainbow to hang above your door
It's pudding time
Laughter is a sweet, you can't put a price on
When laughter's all gone, Daddy won't buy you more
It's pudding time, it's pudding time children
Money money money, to buy you things, daddy's gonna buy you a diamond ring
Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall, Humpty Dumpty had a great fall
All the kings horses and all the kings men couldn't put Humpty together again
San Francisco bay the striped bass are dying
But you're gonna get that brand new bike
Oh joy, it's pudding time, it's pudding time children.


"Sathington Willoughby"
m. Les Claypool, Larry Lalonde, Tim "Herb" Alexander
l. Les Claypool

Frizzle Fry (1990)


We are gathered here today in these majestic halls of old
To honor a man they call Sathington Willoby
There's a joke or two, A pun or three, I feel that must be told
Then I go on to soeak of Sathington Willoby
Sathington Willoby, the legislator that penned us up a bill
That banned the use of certain things like this and that


"Spegetti Western"
m. Les Claypool, Larry Lalonde, Tim "Herb" Alexander
l. Les Claypool

Frizzle Fry (1990)


Why do we do this C.G. and I? Every night vegetables, minds numbed up by THC.
I've got my pen, C.G. the remote
Laurel and Hardy's the best bet at four A.M. on a Friday
No dreads about the working day
Funny thing about weekends when you're unemployed
They don't quite mean so much
Except you get to hang out with all your working friends
Well we got us a spaghetti western on 36, I like spaghetti westerns
I like the way the boots are all reverbed out walking across the hardwood floors
In fact, everything's got that big reverb sound
Well what'll I do now? Go to sleep, pull the pud, we need new pornos
Well, I guess I'm still writing...


"Harold of The Rocks"
m. Les Claypool, Todd Huth, Tim "Herb" Alexander
l. Les Claypool

Suck On This! (1989), Frizzle Fry (1990)


It was a weekend's eve, I had sex on my breath, I was lookin' for somethin' to see.
With a borrowed black leather and my best fishin' hat
Well, it was just Wendy O. and me.
We called old Swamp up on the telephone
And said we was comin' on down to pick him up
And then, he said,
"Hey Swampy, me and Greeny'll come along...but only if we can bring a friend.
His name is Harold." I said "Okay."
Now, we had a Swamper, Greeny, Wendy O, Stanley, Harold of the Rocks and me.
We hopped into my dart and headed for the nightbreak
To see a man they call Schooly D.
Harold he's a friendly guy, he rambles on and on, he'll talk the balls off a rhinosaurus.
Fact is, he just doesn't make much sense.
"Well", Stan said. "This guy's pretty bizarre, Gus." Harold of the Rocks.
I saw Harold at a party Trouzy threw late one night.
I said, "hey man, do you remember me?"
He said, "O' course I do Snapdad and let me tell ya right 'bout now
I'm lit up like an ol' Christmas tree.
Hey bro you know I'd like to thank you once again
For let'n me hang with ya' all across the bay.
When I look back at that night I get me a warm spot across my heart."
Then he shook my hand, and walked away, that's the last I seen of Harold.
Harold of the Rocks.
So in the end, Swamper and Greeny finally succumb to the ways of Harold.
And in doing so each gave just a little bit of his soul away.
What a couple of dumbshits.


"To Defy"
m. Les Claypool, Todd Huth, Tim "Herb" Alexander
Frizzle Fry (1990)


Instrumental