The Downtown Talent Scout

Frank zappa (lead guitar, vocals)

Elliot ingber (rhythm guitar)

Roy estrada (bass)

Jimmy carl black (drums)

Ray collins (tambourine)

The kids are freaking out

Everybody's goin' nuts

The heats out every night

To call up names and kick thier butts

But everytime you turn around

You'll see some joker staring back

He's got a secret tape recorder

And a camera in a sack

Pretending that he's just another

Of the kiddies freaking out

But they pay him off in acid

Cos he's a downtown talent scout

He's got your name

And he's got your face

He's got your ex-old lady's place

He's here to see whats goin down

And they don't believe the things he's found

The badges gleam and the minors scream

When he pulls on the scene

They got no warrants in their pockets

But that badge makes them supreme

You kids are smoking dandelions

You're sniffing paper bags baby

You're dropping good n' plenties

We can tell your posture sags

Now line up here against the wall

Your bodies frail and thin

And open up your pockets

While we dump the evidence in

Well they know that smoking flowers

Won't win a case in court

And they know that good n' plenties

Aren't the psychedelic sort

But they tear your place apart

Because they simply couldn't pass

A chance to drag some freaks downtown

For smoking devil grass

Well you never get your day in court

The food downtown is foul

The day of trial you nearly die

With maggots in your bowel

But modern law and justice

Has advanced to such a point

That a jury trial is useless

They simply take you to the joint

Cause after all you look so freaky

How could anyone believe

That what you think and what you feel

Comes close at all to what is real

Blow your harmonica son