• So Many Dynamos
• RX Bandits
• Pedro The Lion
• Mordred
• Mute Math
• Midnight Oil
• Chicago
• Frank Zappa
• Neurosis
• Mission Of Burma
• Jack Bruce
• Bad Religion
• Duels
• Crashdog
• Cress

single cell, single cell
organisms orchestrating
synthesize and mutate
we have digits we have organs
let us here is the process you can not stop the progress
there is fiction in our fission
there are actions in our words
single cell, single cell
organisms organize
and multiply divide and conquer
onward Christian soldiers
bring them here are the open sores
we are only carnivores
onward Christian soldiers
we will get what we deserve
can't stop, you can't stop the progress
behind the strip malls the tree tops are burning
and we couldn't wait to pave over the ashes
'til we couldn't see past what billboards all clouded
we water the sidewalks and interstates crowded
and now we can breathe like a photograph's keeping
and now we can sing like a meth lab exploding
we'll build skyscrapers together
we'll build skyscrapers together
we will get what we deserve
there are actions in our words speak louder than the curves in our bodies
we will get what we deserve
there are actions in our words speak louder than the curves in our bodies
we will get what we deserve
there are actions in our words speak louder than the curves in our bodies

now you're thinking i'm so stupid, that's allright
you don't know just what you're saying and in due time
what i'm going through, well i don't care and you won't prosper
what i say to you goes in one ear and out the other
now i'm taking three steps forward and two steps back
i've temporarily lost my focus and gone i've off track
what i'm going through, well i don't care and you won't prosper
what i say to you goes in one ear and out the other
please someone, come quickly, i've gotten stuck inside my head
please help me out while i still can
i've gotten stuck inside this little place and no one's helping
nowhere to go, already ran
givin' it one more shot
oh ya gotta let me try to get my life on track, on track
its five in the morning in the studio high up in the stereo
i'm loosing my mind
sayin' i give it up because i'm feeling out of place
don't wanna hear it, feel it now what i'm saying
move forward, move forward, move forward now
move forward, move forward, move forward now

Here we have our dust free dining set
We guarentee it won't collect a spec
Freeing up the children to instead
Grow into your molding
Heed more of your scolding
Go early to their new self-making beds
It seems like you'd be tired of losing face
Like you'd want to put the children in their place
The more you have to tell them to do their chores
The more you run the risk of being ignored
If you're lucky they'll turn out as good as you
You tell them that they're good kids
But you know that it's not true
Your father drank a little
You're on liver number two
Progress has a way of feigning ease
Convenient new inventions bait the tease
For, though it is impossible to cure
A husband bent on cheating
The oxygen's depleting
A child who's always bragging
A wife's persistent nagging
We're equipped to live as though it were
If you're lucky they'll turn out as good as you
You tell them that they're good kids
But you know that it's not true
Your fatehr drank a little

Into the grey sky
Blackness is blown
From this great machine breathing smoke
Hammering pistons
Churning of gears
Furnace of coals remain stoked
Roar of a turbine
Scream of a jet
Man's dream to learn how to fly
Mimicking nature
Study the wind
Travel on air through the sky
Progress comes from the will to learn
Conquest stems from the greed of man
Can't fuse science with hatred
Can't fuse
Advance not with destruction
Proceed defying corruption
Gain ground keep moving forward
Gain ground
Towering structures
Steel and stone
Built on the land that we kill
Burning our forest
Draining our lakes
Forward progression our will
Splitting the atom
Power to threat
Evil we hold in our hands
Frighten our neighbours
Pointing our guns
Until they reach our demands
Progress comes from the will to learn
Conquest stems from the greed of man
Can't fuse science with nature
Can't fuse
Advance not with destruction
Proceed defying corruption
Gain ground keep moving forward

Pulling your confidence through
Some courage is well overdue
I believe solely in all your promise
Why waste a second in doubt
You could be helping you out
Keeping your head in the clear
Like an instrument for a song
Like the sun for tomorrow's dawn
Every moment of time's just an answer to find
What you're here for, what you breathe for
What you wake for, what you bleed for
Everyone's counting on you
Save for yourself what to do
Life is a card that you lay down sometimes
To search for the best way of all
Is finding the best way to fall
Keeping your head in the clear
Every moment of time's just an answer to find
What you're here for, what you breathe for
What you wake for, what you bleed for
What you hope for, what you live for
What you're here for, what you breathe for, what you live for
What you're here for, what you bleed for, what you live for

Say yes to a real life ambition
Say yes to our hopes and our plans
Forget about your indecision
Let's get the beast off our land
A tree that can grow no longer
A beach that has got no sand
I would pay out a king's ransom
If we could just understand
Got your last meal, filled up with pesticide
Hamburger, chain third world infanticide
Got robot, car, your jobs will disappear
It's the politics of a brand new year
Manhattanization is coming
Open your eyes if you dare
Carry us on to the crossroads
Come to your senses and care
16 million, I can't hear you at all
Some say that's progress, I say that's cruel
You may be safe in your hemisphere
But there's so much junk in the stratosphere
We got our eyes on the firmament, hands on the armaments
Heads full of arguments and words for our monuments
I won't deny it, can we survive?

[Instrumental]

Frank Zappa (guitar, vocals)
Ian Underwood (alto saxophone, piano)
Bunk Gardner (tenor saxophone, clarinet)
Motorhead Sherwood (baritone saxophone, tambourine)
Roy Estrada (bass, vocals)
Don Preston (electric piano)
Arthur Tripp (drums, percussion)
Jimmy Carl Black (drums)
Members of The BBC Symphony Orchestra
(The trio protests the interruption, to which Don responds that performance of diatonic music (and eating meat) will preclude them from seeing his aura. They argue that diatonic music is good and his electronic music is horse-shit. He argues that diatonic music is too old-fashioned, and that There must be growth! You've got to eat macrobiotic food -- and study astrology! (It is worth noting that, although the plot was my idea, each band member was responsible for generating his own dialog.)
(?):
Hold it! Hold it!
(?):
Hey, put that down.
Don:
Silence you fools, don't you believe in progress?
Bunk:
Take that progress and stick it under a rock.
Don:
We must overthrow the diatonic system.
Ian:
Bullshit.
Don:
We're coming to the beginning of a new era wherein the development of the inner self will be the most important factor.
Ian:
Honey your music is full of shit and besides that it ain't disciplined.
Bunk:
Give me four-four.
Art:
Togetherness.
Ian:
Yeah.
Bunk:
Some old melodies.
Don:
Look, playing that kind of music and eating meat will never, you'll never be able to see my aura then.
Art:
I've seen your aura a lot, I think it stinks.
Ian:
You've been drinking, Don?
Art:
I can hear your aura and it's bad man.
Don:
Listen, there are many strange things that science doesn't know.
Bunk:
Discipline, you need discipline. Four, four.
Don:
It's got to be new, it's got to progress, it's got to evolve. THERE MUST BE GROWTH!
(?):
Ah, man.
Don:
You've got to eat macrobiotic food.
We're doing a play.
Don:
And study astrology. Delve into the occult world.
Ian:
Well you can delve all you want but were formin' a new group go and do you some yoga excercises. Take care of business.
Don:
Look, mark my words... If you continue playing this music something strange may happen.
Bunk:
Don't threaten me...
By the end of the first show...
Don:
By the end of the first show... No the second show.
So at this point in the development of our plot the three talented members of the Mothers of Invention have quit the group to form their own band with a lot of discipline.
(?):
Yeah.
Listen what we need is a nice disciplined combo!
(This causes the talented trio to quit The Mothers, in order to Form their own band with a lot of discipline. Suddenly, through the magic of stage-craft, their new, disciplined combo (14 members of the BBC symphony) marches on stage, wearing tuxedos, with robot-looking designs painted on their faces. Ian, Bunk and Art put on tuxes, get some bolts and widgits painted on their faces by a roving make-up artist, and take up performance positions within the BBC ensemble.)
And so that they would be completely tackished and fit in with the rest of the disciplined combo. The former members of the Mothers of Invention receive their initiation into the robot musical world.
Don:
This makes me nervous I'm gonna go do some yoga.
Ian:
Yeah you better.
Meanwhile Dom de Wild under pressure prepares to unwind with some healthy yoga excercises.
(At this point, Motorhead wanders out, piddling with his tambourine. He sees the BBC disciplined combo, covets their uniforms, and demands to join their group. The ensemble rebukes him because he can't read music. In spite of this, he plans to force his way in.)
This is Euclid Motorhead Sherwood.
(?):
What's the matter with him?
Ian:
He's nervous cause he couldnt play with our new group.
Motorhead:
Oh, that's nice, look at those suits.
Motorhead covets the uniforms of the other band. And also shows some interest in the bum of Underwood.
Ian:
Ayyyy
(?):
Ten years ago I knew a lot of guys down in Switzerland.
Motorhead:
Hey can I play in your band with a suit like that too?
(?):
Motorhead:
But I like the suits and I can play good. I can play . . . play anything.
Motorhead is lying. He can't play good, he can't play anything. He's trying to con his way into the other band. He knows they don't want him.
Motorhead:
But I got practicing and play good.
He's lying. He hasn't been practicing, he doesn't do shit.
Ian:
Ask me you couldn't even count to four.
(?):
Come on beat it man.
Motorhead:
You can't do that to me I'll fix you. I get into your band.
(?):
Okay Motorhead, just get out of the way.
Motorhead:
You can't stop me, I'll get in there somehow.

How much truth can you take?
Lies so pure
Hidden eyes, victimized too secure
You live your lies to suicide
Content from fear
Beaten down and kept in line
Commit to sin
Programmed mind, self-confined wall closed in
Greed controls our lives
Money kills
Taught to think and act and lie

Down with history
Down with sense
Nothing makes much difference
I'll surrender to this tragic mess
Spinning ball of randomness
Where Logos is the finest blasphemy
Men's lives pass like strips of film
Recorded gesture, acts of will
I'd like to think that down through time
They'd compose a logical line
But chances are that's just a pile of shit
And I can't help but bow my head and cry
It took so long to finally realize
That all our hopes are based on such gross lies
Classroom lessons World War Two
Atrocities against the Jews
Never again our solemn vow
That's why we all share Cambodia
Isn't it great how far we've come since then?
And I can't help but bow my head and cry
It took so long to finally realize
That all our hopes are based on such gross lies
Dialectic's shit
Evolution's crap
Time and time again the masquerade is
Shown for what it really is:
Progress, progress it's a pleasant myth
Progress, progress it's a pleasant myth
Progress, progress
Pleasant myth

We used to walk those golden streets
But where's the glitter gone?
The times we knew, falling back into blue
From this moment on
We used to sail such silver seas
But they have lost their glow
The days we danced, have denied their romance
Ain't nowhere to go
Looking through cold windows, at the autumn flying by
I wait for memories to come home
All this time, without you, and I search the sky
So sad, the sun is on its own
Love used to wear a sapphire smile
Maybe a diamond grin
The years we played were destroyed in the raids
All the fools that we've been
Look out at the wild world through the sweet and sour rain
I wish the ache would lose its sting
All these broken chances 'cause I missed the train
Tomorrow just don't mean a thing
We used to march against the night
Now there's so little shine
The minds we moved have slipped out of the groove
Now that you are not mine
The seasons just don't rhyme

And progress is not intelligently planned
It's the facade of our heritage
The odor of our land
They speak of progress
In red, white and blue
It's the structure of the future
As demise comes seething through
It's progress 'til there's nothing left to gain
As the dearth of new ideas
Makes us wallow in our shame
So before you go to contribute more
To the destruction of this world you adore
Remember life on earth is but a flash of dawn
And we're all part of it as the day rolls on
And progress is a message that we send
One step closer to the future, one inch closer to the end
I say progress is a synonym of time
We are all aware of it but it's nothing we refine
And progress is a debt we all must pay
It's convenience we all cherish, it's pollution we disdain
And the cutting edge is dulling, too many people to plow through
Just keep your fuckin' distance and it can't include you
It's progress 'til there's nothing left to gain
It's progress, it's a message I'll send

Now i said i think you lied
you really think so
yes but i don't know why
you could have anything you want
now i know whats wrong
how can you live with yourself
i don't know she said
but i do
well you said i don't know why
you really think so
we all know you tried
but you must now see what you've done
well i do not see you said
theres a time and place
for ( )
but if ( )
i'll stay if you want me to

Sear the guilt throbbing in our
heads, now we sleep in our blood
beds. Rid ourselves of God, the
crutch, our broken legs don't hurt
so much.
Reaching forward, falling back, the
more we progress, the more we lack.
At Nagasaki we built a sun right on
the ground. At least we won. Use
the pretty, lose the rest, it's evolution
at its best.
Lay in beds of anger, talking in our
sleep. Mumble words of vengeance,
songs of world peace.
The incense of our progress is the
burning of the weak. The wound is

you sit in your house and you stare at the screen, wasting away do you know what i mean, as they rip down the trees and tear up the earth, don't they know how much she is worth, your materialist dream, well it ain't worth a lot, when the earth is a dream and mankind is forgot, show them the courage of your moral worth, get out now and fight for the eart, so i sit here in my chair staring at the screen acting out my phantasy by living in a dream, political message while the white wash dries, the government has the answers, but the government never lies, you fill your life with tv, don't see the world outside and you don't even realize you have been taken for a ride, see they cover up the truth with fiction not fact, if you don't know reality how can you react, our voice is as a whisper in these dark times, falling on deafened ears, lost in our ignorance, fear surrounds us on all sides, as we hear of the darkness to come, but we hide ourselves from the pleadings of the millions, the earth our mother dies, without her we will die, as do the starving millions all over the world today, their faces stare at us through that screen in your room, we see it as a repeatof the one we saw last year, only the faces have changed, we have not, staring at the screen, wishing you could do more, look back at your history, see it's always been the same, the leaders take the credit and the people get the blame, abuse us, misuse us, but they promise to do more, like take away our freedom with the power they call law, they clothe us and feed us, protect us from ourselves, ignore us, deplore us and lock away their wealth, they guide us like children, insist that they are right, they bleed us, protect us, then send us into fight, illusion, confusion, the blindfold fits your eyes, i don't need television to see the starving people die, the propaganda sucks you into the tv death machine, the propaganda sucks you into, mankind the living dream