Frank Zappa #3
Acrylic on Board
96 cm x 112 cm
Text from ‘Trouble Every Day’ by Frank Zappa.
"Well I'm about to get sick-From watchin' my TV-Been checkin' out the news-Until my eyeballs fail to see-I mean to say that every day-Is just another rotten mess-And when it's gonna change, my friend-Is anybody's guess-So I'm watchin' and I'm waitin'-Hopin' for the best-Even think I'll go to prayin'-Every time I hear 'em sayin'-That there's no way to delay-That trouble comin' every day-No way to delay-That trouble comin' every day-Wednesday I watched the riot . . .-Seen the cops out on the street-Watched 'em throwin' rocks and stuff-And chokin' in the heat-Listened to reports-About the whisky passin' 'round-Seen the smoke and fire-And the market burnin' down-Watched while everybody-On his street would take a turn-To stomp and smash and bash and crash-And slash and bust and burn-And I'm watchin' and I'm waitin'-Hopin' for the best-Even think I'll go to prayin'-Every time I hear 'em sayin'-That there's no way to delay-That trouble comin' every day-No way to delay-That trouble comin' every day-Well, you can cool it,-You can heat it . . .-'Cause, baby, I don't need it . . .-Take your TV tube and eat it-'N all that phony stuff on sports-'N all the unconfirmed reports-You know I watched that rotten box-Until my head begin to hurt-From checkin' out the way-The newsman say they get the dirt-Before the guys on channel so-and-so-And further they assert-That any show they'll interrupt-To bring you news if it comes up-They say that if the place blows up-They will be the first to tell,-Because the boys they got downtown-Are workin' hard and doin' swell,-And if anybody gets the news-Before it hits the street,-They say that no one blabs it faster-Their coverage can't be beat-And if another woman driver-Gets machine- gunned from her seat-They'll send some joker with a brownie-And you'll see it all complete-So I'm watchin' and I'm waitin'-Hopin' for the best-Even think I'll go to prayin'-Every time I hear 'em sayin'-That there's no way to delay-That trouble comin' every day-No way to delay-That trouble comin' every day-Hey, you know something people?-I'm not black-But there's a whole lots a times-I wish I could say I'm not white-Well, I seen the fires burnin'-And the local people turnin'-On the merchants and the shops-Who used to sell their brooms and mops-And every other household item-Watched the mob just turn and bite 'em-And they say it served 'em right-Because a few of them are white,-And it's the same across the nation-Black and white discrimination-Yellin' "You can't understand me!"-'N all that other jazz they hand me-In the papers and TV and-All that mass stupidity-That seems to grow more every day-Each time you hear some nitwit say-He wants to go and do you in-Because the color of your skin-Just don't appeal to him-(No matter if it's black or white)-Because he's out for blood tonight-You know we got to sit around at home-And watch this thing begin-But I bet there won't be many live-To see it really end-'Cause the fire in the street-Ain't like the fire in the heart-And in the eyes of all these people-Don't you know that this could start-On any street in any town-In any state if any clown-Decides that now's the time to fight-For some ideal he thinks is right-And if a million more agree-There ain't no Great Society-As it applies to you and me-Our country isn't free-And the law refuses to see-If all that you can ever be-Is just a lousy janitor-Unless your uncle owns a store-You know that five in every four-Just won't amount to nothin' more-Gonna watch the rats go across the floor-And make up songs about being poor-Blow your harmonica, son! "