Titties and Beer
Titties and Beer

Titties and Beer easy guitar chords by Frank Zappa

N/A
Guitar
Tuning

E A D G B E

Capo

Fret 4

Capo

Transpose

0

Capo
  • D

  • G

  • C

  • Dm

  • D

  • G

  • C

  • Dm

  • Verse 1
    It 

    was 
    the 
    black
    est 
    night 

    There 
    was 
    no 
    moon 
    in sight 

    You 
    know 
    the 
    stars 
    ain't 
    shinin' 

    'Cause 
    the sky's 
    too 
    tight 

    heard 
    the 
    scary 
    wind 

    I seen 
    some 
    ugly 
    trees 

    There 
    was 
    a werewolf 
    honkin' 

    'Long 
    the 
    side 
    of 
    me 

    I'm 
    mean 
    'n I'm 
    bad, 

    why'know I ain't 
    no 
    sis
    sy 

    Got a 
    big- 
    titty 
    girly 
    by 
    the 

    name 
    of 
    Chris
    sy 

    Talkin' 
    about 
    her 
    'n 
    my 

    bike 
    'n 
    me 
    . . . 

    'N this 
    ride 
    up 
    the 
    Moun
    tain 
    of 
    Mystery, 

    mys
    tery 

    Verse 2

    noticed 
    even 
    the crick
    ets 

    Were 
    actin' 
    weird 
    up 
    here 

    'N 
    so 
    figured 
    might 

    Just 
    drink 
    little 
    beer 

    said, 
    "Gimme 
    summa 
    that 

    what 
    yer 
    suck
    in' 
    on 
    . . . " 

    But 
    there 
    was 
    no 
    reply 

    'Cause 
    she 
    was 
    gone 
    . . . 

    Verse 3
    "Where's 
    those 
    titties 
    like 
    so 
    well, 

    'n 
    my 
    goddamn 
    beer
    !" 

    Is 
    what 
    started 
    to 
    yell, 

    then 
    heard 
    this 
    noise 

    Like 
    crunchin' 
    twig, 

    'n 
    up 
    jumped 
    the Dev
    il 
    . . . 

    He's 
    about 
    this 
    big 
    . . . 

    Verse 4
    He 
    had 
    a red 
    suit on 

    An' 
    widow's 
    peak 

    An' 
    then 
    pointed 
    tail 

    'N 
    like 
    a sul
    phur 
    reek 

    Yes, 
    it 
    was 
    him 
    alright, 

    I sweared 
    knowed 
    it 
    was 

    He 
    had 
    some 
    human 
    flesh 

    Stuck 
    underneath 
    his 
    claws 

    Y'
    know, 
    it 
    looked 
    to 
    me 

    Like 
    it 
    was 
    titty 
    skin 

    I said, 
    "You 
    son 
    of 
    bitch!" 

    'Cause 
    was 
    mad 
    at 
    him, 

    Well 
    he just 
    got 
    out his 
    floss 

    'N started 
    cleanin' 
    his 
    fang 

    So 
    I shot 
    him 
    with my 
    shoot
    er, 

    Said: 
    BANG 
    BANG 
    BANG 

    Then 
    the suck
    Verse 5
    er 
    just 
    laughed 

    'n 
    said: 

    Bozzio: Oh, put 
    it 
    away 
    . . . 

    You know, 
    ate her 
    all 
    up 
    . . . now 

    what 
    you 
    gonna 
    say? 

    Frank: You 
    ate 
    my 

    Chrissy? 

    Bozzio: Tit
    ties 'n 
    all! 

    Frank: Well, what 
    about 
    the 
    beer 
    then, 

    boy? 

    Bozzio: Ah 
    . . . Were the 
    cans 
    this 
    tall? 

    Frank: Even 
    her 
    boots? 

    Bozzio: Would 
    lie 
    to 
    you? 

    Frank: Shit, 

    you musta 
    been 
    hungry! 

    Bozzio: Yes, 
    this 
    is 
    true. 

    Frank: Don't 
    they 
    pay 
    you 
    good 

    For 
    the stuff 
    that 
    you 
    do? 

    Bozzio: Well, 
    you 
    know 

    I can't 
    complain 
    when 
    the 
    checks 

    come 
    through 
    . . . 

    Frank: Well 
    want 
    my 
    Chrissy, 

    'N 
    want 
    my 
    beer 

    So 
    you just 
    barf it 
    back 
    up 

    Now, 
    Devil, 
    do 
    you 
    hear? 

    Bozzio: Blow 
    it out 
    your 
    ass, 

    mo
    torcycle 
    man! 

    I mean, 
    am 
    the Dev
    il, 

    Do you 
    un
    der
    stand? 

    Just 
    what 
    will you 
    give 
    me 
    for 
    your 

    Tit
    ties 
    and 
    beer? 

    suppose 
    you 
    noticed 
    this 

    little 
    con
    tract 
    here 
    . . . 

    Frank: Y
    er goddam 
    right, 
    you 

    Son- 
    of- 
    a- 
    whore 

    Bozzio: Don't 
    call 
    me that! 

    Frank: That's 
    about 
    the 
    only 
    reas

    on 
    learned 
    writin' 
    for 
    . . . 

    Gim
    me 
    that 
    paper 
    . . . bet 

    yer 
    ass 
    will sign 
    . . . 

    Be
    cause 
    need 
    beer, 

    'N 
    it's 
    titty- 
    squeez

    in' time! 

    Bozzio: Man, 
    you 
    can't 
    fool 
    me 

    . . . you 
    ain't 
    that 
    bad 
    . . . 

    mean 
    you 
    shoulda 
    seen 
    some 
    of the souls 

    that 
    I've 
    had 
    . . . 

    Frank: Oh, yeah? 

    Bozzio: Why there was 
    Mil

    hous Nixon 
    'n 
    Agnew, 
    too 
    . . . 

    'N 
    both 
    of 
    those 
    suck
    ers 
    was 

    worse 
    'n 
    you 
    . . . 

    Frank: Well, let's 
    make 
    deal 

    if you 
    think 
    that's 
    true 

    mean, 

    you're 
    the 
    Dev
    il 
    so 
    . . . 

    Whatcha 
    gonna 
    do? 

    Bozzio: Wait 
    a minute 
    . . . a tinge 
    of doubt 
    Verse 6
    crosses 
    my 
    mind 
    when 

    you 
    say 
    that 
    you 
    want 
    to 
    make 
    a deal 
    with me 
    . . . 

    Frank: That's 
    very, 

    very 
    true 
    . . . 

    Bozzio: Wait 
    . . . you ain't 
    supposed 
    to want 

    to make 
    deal 
    with 
    me 

    Frank: Ah, 
    but 
    I'm slightly 
    different 
    than 
    your 
    av
    erage 
    customer, 

    Devil 
    . . . 

    Bozzio: But, wait 
    . . . but most 
    people 
    don't 
    want 

    to make 
    a deal 
    with 
    me . . . Wha . . . 

    Frank: Yeah . . . 

    Bozzio: What's 
    your story? 

    Frank: Well, 
    most people 
    are afraid 
    of you, 
    see? 
    They don't 
    know 
    how stu
    pid 
    you 
    are 
    . . . I 
    happen 

    to know 
    that 
    you 
    jack 
    off 
    to a 
    picture 
    of 
    Punky Meadows 
    when 
    you get 
    home 
    . . . 

    Bozzio: Grrarh . . . Stupid 

    . . . Grrarh . . . 

    Frank: You know 
    . . . ever 
    since 
    that 
    guy 
    told 
    you 
    that he 
    contained 
    more 
    fluid 
    than Jeff 
    Beck 
    you've been tryin' 
    to outdo 
    him 
    . . . Awright, 
    look, 
    I'm gonna 
    say 
    one 
    thing 
    to you 
    . . . this 
    may 
    not 
    register 
    right 
    away, 
    but let 
    me say 
    this 
    . . . leave 
    your 
    pickle 
    alone 
    for 
    a couple 
    of night
    s, 
    you know 
    what I mean 
    . . . ? Now, come 
    on! 
    I'm 
    only 
    interested 
    in a 
    couple 
    of things 
    . . . (Wait, is that 
    a note 
    for 
    me? 
    Is some
    body 
    passing 
    me 
    a note? 
    What does 
    this say 
    . . . ? "Frank, 

    please 
    do 
    me 
    a favour, 
    can't 
    find 
    a brother 
    of 
    mine, 
    could 
    dig 
    it 
    if 
    you 
    could 
    call 
    him 
    from 
    stage. 
    His 
    name 
    is 
    Dirty 
    Tom 
    Nomads 
    M.C.," 
    signed 
    "Thanks, 
    Bear" 
    or "Bean," 
    can't 
    tell 
    . . . Well, 
    if he's 
    out 
    there 
    . . . Dirty 
    Tony 
    De La 
    Nomads 
    M.C. 
    get 
    in touch 
    with 
    Bean 
    or 
    Bear 
    . . .) And 
    as I was 
    sayin', 
    Devil, 
    I'm 
    an average 
    sort 
    of a per
    son, 
    I'm 
    . . . you 
    wouldn't 
    believe 
    it, 
    but 
    . . . I'm very 
    much 
    like 
    the 
    people 
    here 
    in 
    this 
    audience 
    to
    night 
    . . . 

    Bozzio: What? 

    Frank: I think 
    we 
    definitely 
    have 

    something 
    in 
    common 
    . . . 

    Bozzio: Wait a 
    minute, 
    I thought 
    you 
    had 
    funny 
    things 
    growing 
    in your 
    hair 
    an
    d all 
    that 

    other 
    stuff 
    . . . I thought 
    . . . write 
    weird 
    mu
    sic, 
    you 
    know, I thought 
    . . . 

    Frank: Listen 
    . . . 

    Bozzio: . . . biker and 
    everything, 
    I mean, 

    shit, 
    you know? 

    Frank: . . . listen 
    care
    fully 

    . . . 

    Bozzio: . . . big titty 
    chic 
    that 
    you just 
    had 
    out here 
    with the camera, 

    I mean, 
    you know 
    . . . 

    Frank: Listen care
    fully 
    to 
    me, 

    oh, 
    Devil 
    . . . 

    Terry: Uh- huh 
    . . . 

    Frank: I'm 
    only 
    interested 

    in two 
    things 

    Bozzio: Yeah 
    . . . 

    Frank: See 
    if 
    you can 

    guess 
    what 
    they are 

    Bozzio: I 
    would 
    think 
    . . . uh 
    . . . let's 
    see, 

    maybe 
    . . . uh 
    . . . 

    Frank: Well, I'll 
    give you . . . 


    Bozzio: Stravinsky 

    . . . and, uh . . . 

    Frank: I'll give 
    you two 

    clues 
    . . . 

    Bozzio: . . . let's 
    see 
    . . . uh 
    . . . 

    Frank: Let go 
    of your pickle 

    Bozzio: What? 

    Frank: Let 
    go 
    of your pickle! 

    Bozzio: I'm 
    not 
    holding 

    my pickle 

    Frank: Well, who's 

    holding 
    your pickle 
    then? 

    Bozzio: I don't 
    know . . . ha! 
    She's 
    out in the 
    audience 
    . . . Hey, 
    Dale, 

    would 
    you 
    like to 
    come up 
    here 
    and hold 
    my 
    pickle 
    to 
    satisfy 
    this 
    weird 
    man 
    out 
    here 
    on the stage? 

    Frank: You're probably 
    wondering 
    why 
    we 

    call 
    it a 
    pickle 
    . . 

    Ray: Ha ha ha! 

    Bozzio: Oh, 
    no . . . 

    Frank: I 
    don't . . . I 
    hate 
    . . . I hate 
    to squeal 
    on 
    you, 
    Bozzio, I mean, 

    Devil 
    . . . but, look, 
    I'm 
    only 
    interested 
    in 
    two 
    things 
    . . . 

    Bozzio: Now, wait 
    minute 
    . . . all 
    I have 
    to say 
    is 
    God 
    help 
    me! 
    . . . Even 

    though 
    I have 
    this 
    . . . this 
    fucking 
    mask 
    on 
    . . 

    Frank: Ha ha ha ha ha 
    . . . ! Listen, 
    if 
    you think 
    that 
    mask 
    looks 
    bad, 

    you 
    oughta 
    see his 
    pickle 
    . . . I'm 
    only 
    interested 
    in two 
    things, 
    that's 
    titties 
    and 
    beer, 
    you 
    know what 
    I mean? 

    Bozzio: What? 

    Frank: Yeah 
    . . . 

    Bozzio: Titties 
    and beer? 

    Frank: Titties 
    and 
    beer
    , titties 
    and beer, 
    titties 
    and beer, 
    titties and 
    beer, titties 
    and beer, 

    titties 
    and 
    beer, 
    titties 
    and 
    beer, titties 
    an
    beer 
    . . . 

    Bozzio: (Growling) Whoa, I 
    don't know 

    if 
    you're 
    the right 
    guy! 

    Frank: . . . titties 
    and 
    beer, 
    tit
    ties 
    and 
    beer, 

    titties 
    and 
    beer 
    . . . 

    Verse 7
    Bozzio: No! 
    Don't 
    sign 
    it! 
    Give 

    me time 
    to think 
    . . . 

    I mean 
    . . . 

    Frank: Alright! 

    Bozzio: Hold 
    on a 
    second, 
    boy 
    . . . 

    'Cause 
    that's 
    Magic 
    Ink! 

    Verse 8
    Frank:And then 
    the 
    Devil 

    let 
    go 
    of 
    his pickle 

    'N 
    out 
    jumped 
    m'girl 

    They heard 
    the 
    titties 
    PLOP- 
    PLOPPIN' 

    All 
    around 
    the world, 
    she 
    said: 

    "I GOT 
    ME 
    THREE 
    BEERS 
    'N 

    A FIST 
    FULLA DOWNS, 

    AN' 
    I'M 
    GONNA 
    GET 
    RIPPED, 

    SO 
    FUCK 
    YOU 
    CLOWN
    S!" 

    Then 
    she 
    gave 
    us 
    the fin
    ger, 

    It 
    was 
    rigid 
    'n stiff, 

    That's 
    when 
    the Devil, 
    he 
    farted 

    An' she 
    went 
    right 
    over 
    the cliff 


    (Whoa . . . Tinsel 

    Time!) 

    Well, 
    the Devil 
    was 
    mad 

    took 
    off 
    to 
    my pad 

    I swear 
    do 
    de
    clare! 

    How 
    did 
    she 
    get 
    back 
    there? 

    I swear 
    do 
    de
    clare! 

    How 
    did 
    she 
    get 
    back 
    there? 

    swear 
    I do 
    de
    clare! 

    How 
    did 
    she 
    get 
    back 
    there? 

    I swear 
    do 
    de
    clare! 

    How 
    did 
    she 
    get 
    back 
    there? 

    swear 
    do 
    declare! 

    How 
    did she 
    get 
    back 
    there? 

    I swear 
    do 
    de . . . 

    Verse 9
    Alright, 
    Well, yeah, 
    that's 
    enough 
    of 
    the Devil 
    and his 
    fam
    ous 
    pickle, 
    we're 
    going 
    to make 
    another 
    dramatic, 

    if... 
    if, 
    somewhat... 
    rickety 
    segue into 
    another 
    song 
    called 
    Cruising 
    for 
    Burgers, 
    wait a 
    minute... 

    Outro 1

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