Tekster: Frank Zappa. Magdalena.

(Kaylan/Zappa)

[includes a quote from Violin Concerto in D (Stravinsky)]

Hey!
Ha!
Ooh!

There was a man
A little ole man
Who lived in Montreal
With a wife and a kid
And a car and a house
And a teenage daughter
With a see-thru blouse
Who loved to grunt and ball-
And her name was Magdalena

Magdalena . . .

The little ole man
Came home one night
To his house in Montreal.
He caught his daughter
In the blouse by the light
And he said to himself:
"She looks all right!"
And he reached for a tit
And grabbed it tight
And threw her up
Against the wall
(BLUE CROSS!)
Magdalena . . .

My daughter dear,
Do not be concerned when your
Canadian daddy comes near.
My daughter dear
Do not be concerned when your
Canadian daddy comes near.
I work so hard,
Don't you understand,
Making maple syrup
For the pancakes of our land.
Do you have any idea?
What that can do to a man?
What that can do to a man?
Do you have any idea?
What that can do to a man?
What that can do to a man?

The little ole man
With the grubby little hand
Who lived in Montreal
Was drooling a bit
As he reached for her tit
And he said to himself:
"This is gonna be it!"
But the girl turned around
And said: "Go eat shit!"
And ran on down the hall.
Right on, Magdalena!

My daughter dear,
Do not be concerned when your
Canadian daddy comes near.
My daughter dear
Do not be concerned when your
Canadian daddy comes near.
I work so hard,
Don't you understand,
Making maple syrup
For the pancakes of our land.
Do you have any idea?
What that can do to a man?
What that can do to a man?
Do you have any idea?
What that can do to a man?
What that can do to a man?
(Tell 'em!)

Magdalena, don't you tease me like this
Right in the hallway with your blouse and your tits
If your mommy ever finds us like this
She'll call a lawyer, oh how mom will be pissed

DOODLE DOODLE DOODLE DUH-DUH DEE-UH
DOODLE DOODLE DOODLE DUH-DUH DEE-UH
DOODLE DOODLE DOODLE DUH-DUH DEE-UH
DOODLE DOODLE DOODLE DUH-DUH DEE-UH-WAH . . .

Magdalena, Magdalena, Magdalena, Magdalena,
daughter of the smog-filled winds of Los Angeles,
I'd like to take you in the closet and take off your little clothes
until you are virtually stark raving nude,
spread mayonaise
and kaopectate all over your body
and take you down to Hollywood Boulevard
and we can,
we can walk down the streets
by the stars that say Jon Provost and Leo G. Carroll together, baby.
We can go dancing up at the Cinegrill
can't you see it: Frank Pernell and us, until dark,
don't you understand, my baby?
I didn't mean, I didn't need, I mean . . .
it was so hard for me . . .
I just . . .
I saw you standing under the Shell pest strip late last night,
in the light,
with your little nipples protruding through your little see-thru thingie,
and I just said:
'My god, my god, I gave my sperm to this thing!'
And now I just,
oh, you got me so hard, I just,
I don't know what to do, Magdalena, don't you understand?
So I grabbed you, but,
but don't hold it against me, I mean,
your mom will never know, baby,
and I wantcha to come back to me,
I mean . . . do you understand me? I want you to . . .
I'm down on my knees to ya, Magdalena!
I wantcha ta walk back to me, baby,
I wantcha to turn around by the Sparkletts machine.
That's it! That's it!
In the little chartreuse hallway with the little neon Jesus picture on the wall,
and I want you to step, baby,
I want you to walk back in your five inch spike heels that you got at Frederick's,
same time you and your mommy got that crotchless underwear last year for Christmas,
and I want you to stroll back to me, baby
Walk back, baby, don'tcha understand me, baby?
I want you to walk back
I'm down on bended knees, baby
I'm gonna, I'm gonna, I wanna take off your little training bra
Don't you understand me?
I'm gonna take off you little maroon hot pants
I'm gonna get down on my knees, baby,
dont'cha understand what I'm saying to you?
Your mom will never know,
she's playing bridge with the girls,
and you and I . . .
you and I go sucking som'thing, baby,
it's just you and I, don'tcha understand?
We can make love all night long,
nobody will ever know,
come on, Magdalena!
Please, little girl,
walk back to your daddy,
what did I do that was so wrong?
My God, I was only following the sexual impulse like I heard on the Johnny Carson Show
from a book or something I wrote,
I didn't know what I was doing
I got carried away
What can I say like . . . like . . .
walk back, baby,
come on,
oh, please, you gotta walk back, baby, walk back,
walk back to your daddy!
Come on, Magdalena, to your daddy, baby,
you gotta walk back, baby, walk back,
walk back, baby, walk back,
your mom will never know,
your mom will never know,
walk back, baby, walk back,
walk back, baby, walk back,
Magdalena, come back,
come back to you daddy,
walk back, baby,
walk back, baby,
walk, walk, walk, walk,
WALK!
Walk to your daddy,
come on down, stroll it around of me,
I'm down on my knees, don't you understand?
Your mom will never know,
I told you so . . .
(I love you, Magdalena!)
You know what . . .
I said . . .