You Like My New Car lyrics - letras - testo
[includes a quote from Tell Me You Love Me]
Mark: I mean really . . .
Howard: Rant-rant-rant-rt-rt-rt-rant-nt . . .
Mark: You are . . . you gotta tell me something . . . I mean, seriously, I'm tellin' you, this is the first time that any of my girlfriends and I have ever met anybody reallyfrom Hollywood . . . I mean . . . really my girlfriend Jim and Ian and . . . Aynsley and Bob and . . . Frank . . . I mean, none of us . . . we've never . . .
Howard: Pleased to meet you . . .
Ian: Hi Howie
Mark: We've never met a pop star from Hollywood . . . tell me something: have you ever met Davy Jones . . . or . . .
Howard: No . . .
Mark: . . . or Bobby Sherman?
Howard: No, I . . .
Mark: I mean . . . David Cassidy, he's so . . .
Howard: No . . . Jimmy Greenspoon, and once I . . .
Mark: Three Dog Night?
Howard: Yeah . . .
Mark: Oh! I love them! They're my favorite band! oh gawd . . . oh, do you like my new car . . . ? My dad just gave it to me for graduation
Howard: Oh, yeah . . . ! It's a . . . it's a Fillmore, isn't it? Real futuristic, ah . . . I dig the fins . . . listen: do you know how to get to the, ah, Holiday Inn from here?
Mark: No, ah . . . which one is it?
Howard: (Burp) . . . excuse me . . . It's . . . it's . . . it's the one by the airport . . . you know . . . 'cause we gotta . . . we gotta get up early an' . . . fly outta here in the morning, you know?
Mark: Oh! Oh, I didn't know that . . .
Mark: Where . . . where d'you guys play tomorrow night? I mean . . . I'd like to come maybe . . . in your bus or somethin'...
(In the BUS!)
Howard: Come in the bus, huh? Tomorrow we're in ah, let's see . . . Tierra del Fuego
Mark: Oh . . . You're so professional, Howie!
Howard: Oh, it's not . . .
Mark: Howie, I mean . . .
Howard: It's nothing . . .
Mark: I mean the way you're gettin' to p . . . to play n all these exotic places, I mean . . .
Mark: Tell me something, tell me and all my girl- TELL me . . . do you really have a hit record . . . on the charts now . . . with a BULLET? I mean that's really important to me . . .
Howard: Listen, honey . . . would I lie to you just to . . . get in your pants?
Mark: He-Hey! Listen!
Jim: Hey, hey . . .
Mark: Hey, listen to me . . . tell him : WE ARE NOT GROUPIES!
Howard: No, I never . . . I never said that. . .
Mark: We're not groupies! You better understand . . . I told Robert Plant it, I told Elton John, I told all those big guys . . .
Howard: Robert PLANET?!
Mark: We are not groupies!
Howard: No, I never . . .
Mark: Roger Daltrey never laid a hand on me!
Howard: No, I never . . . I . . . it's obvious to see why . . . Listen, I've never . . .
Mark: And my . . .
Jim: Howard . . .
Mark: Tell him! Tell him right now!
Jim: We only like musicians for f-friends, you know?
FZ: Real straight arrow, Howie
Mark: Really . . . just for friends, Howie . . .
Jim: But we still like you
FZ: Yeah, we wouldn't mind coming in your bus, though
Jim: I mean, we still want to hear your record...
Howard: Listen you chicks, now didn't . . . didn't you just say that you got off bein' juked with a BABY OCTOPUS . . . and spewed upon with creamed corn . . . an' that your harelipped dyke-o bass-playing girlfriend on the backseat had to have it with a Yoo-hoo bottle or she went apeshit . . . ?!
Mark: Oh . . .
Howard: What's the deal, baby?
Howard: Come on . . .
Mark: Howie, listen to me, all that's true . . .
Howard: Come across, like . . . you know?
Mark: I swear, all that's true, and sometimes I even dig it with a Dr. Brown's Cream Soda . . . or a Cel-Ray! But . . . we are not groupies! No matter what you think . . .
Howard: No, I never . . .
Mark: We are not groupies . . .
Howard: You see, there seems to be some kind of a communications problem, honey, because I . . . I'm a lonely guy from outta town, you know, an' . . . an' I want some ACTION . . . what . . . what I'm talkin' about is, I wanna . . . a-a steaming, succulent, ever-widening, gooey, drippy, runny kind of a hole with a . . . with . . . how shall I put this . . . ? What say we hop in the trunk of your Gremlin AN' GET OUR ROCKS OFF?
Mark: Hey! Hey-hey-hey-heyyyy . . . Jesus!
FZ: Very agile, Howie, very agile!
Mark: I'm in this band, man . . . I am in this band no matter what we do up here . . . you know . . . Now listen, it just so happens . . .
Howard: Yeah . . .
Mark: Tonight me and my girlfriends, I mean, we've all come here for one thing tonight . . .
Mark: Looking for a guy . . . And we're looking for a guy from a group . . .
Mark: BUT HE'S GOTTA HAVE A DICK!
Mark: AND HE'S GOTTA HAVE A DICK THAT'S A MONSTER!!
Howard: WAAAAAAAAH . . . ! That's me!! That's me! Oh . . . Oh, you voluptuous Manhattan Island clit . . .
FZ: I swear he was a Manhattan Island . . .
Howard: Take me, I'm yours, you hole . . . fulfil my . . . wildest dreams!
Mark: Ooooh! Anything for you, my most seductive, seclusive . . . pop star of a man . . .
Mark: Picture this if you can
Howard: Oh . . .
Mark: Bead jobs!
Mark: Knotted nylons!
Mark: Bamboo canes!
Mark: Three unreleased recordings of Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young fighting in the dressing-room of the Fillmore East!
Mark: One enchilada wrapped with pickle sauce shoved up and down in between a donkey's legs until he can't stand it no more . . . ! All this and more, Howie, including: an electric coolde pony harness, with fuel injection . . . fuel injection . . . fuel injection . . .
Howard: Oh . . . my God, I . . . I . . . I can't stand it! I mean . . . I mean, do you understand the implications of what I'm saying? I . . . I CAN'T STAND IT! I CAN'T STAND IT! I CAN'T STAND IT! I CAN'T STAND IT! I CAN'T STAND . . . FEET ON FIRE . . . I'M GOING HOME! I GOTTA SEE MY BABY! I GONNA . . . SO HOT! I CAN'T STAND IT! I CAN'T STAND IT! I CAN'T STAND IT! I CAN'T STAND IT . . . I CAN'T STAND IT . . . I CAN'T STAND IT! I CAN'T STAND IT! I CAN'T . . . OH! OH NO! OH . . . GOD . . .! I can't stand it! Oh . . . I really can't stand it . . . please . . . give it to me . . . give it to me right here in the trunk of your Gremlin . . . give me . . . GIVE ME THE ENCHILADA WITH THE PICKLE SAUCE SHOVED UP AND DOWN THE DONKEY'S ASS UNTIL HE CAN'T COME ANYMORE!
Mark: Hey-hey! Not until you sing me your big hit record! And I wanna hear the big hit record, and I wanna hear it now, an' I wanna hear the big hit record now with a bullet! With a bullet!
Howard: The bullet?
Mark: The BULLET! The BULLET! It's the part that gets me the hottest . . . now sing me that record, and I wanna hear it right now or you ain't driving nowhere tonight, buddy . . .
Howard: Well . . . I know when I'm licked . . . all over . . . Okay, baby: BEND OVER AND SPREAD 'EM! Here comes my . . . BULLET!!