Frank Zappa » Conehead Lyrics

Conehead.. .she ain't really dumb
She's just a Conehead.. .'tater chip crumbs
All over her face
Is there any more beer
Stashed away at her place?
She's just a Conehead. . .she can't help herself
"She's a Conehead girl... ''
Pitch her a ring
That is the thing
That's getting her hot-uh
A hoop or a ring
Coin' over the top of her Conehead
"She is from a small town in France
'N she's a Conehead kind of girl, kind of guy"
That's what she gives me is-uh Oooh! Conehead
When she's on her knees
The point is so high
I keep sayin' please
Keep it out of my eye, she's a Conehead
(She's a Conehead kind of girl, kind of guy, kind of a girl-thing. . .)
Saturday Night
You're home alone
The TV lights up
As her dad comes home
He's been workin' all day
At the drivin'school
In a stupid-lookin' hat
That he uses to fool
The people of Earth
Who might get back
If they knew he was really
From Remulak, where the
Conehead.. .people are from, where the
Conehead. . .people go to, when the
Conehead.. .people are done with their
Conehead.. .things that are fun
Connie the Cone
Is dressed real neat
Like a teen-age girl
From down the street
But Mom 'n Dad
They don't approve
Carbohydrates
Is all they groove
Connie's eye
Has a tiny tear
But they rinse it away
With a case of beer
A bag of chips
'N fiberglass
Her diet's a riot
I can't keep quiet
I'd love to try it
But I think I'll pass
To eat that kind of stuff they pack
You'd hafta be from Remulak, where the
Conehead. . .people are from, where the
Conehead. . .people go to, when the
Conehead. . .people are done with the
Conehead. . .things that are fun, where the
Conehead.. .people are from, where the
Conehead. . .people go to, when the
Conehead.. .people are done, with the
Conehead. . .things that are fun