The muffin man is seated at the table in the laboratory of the utility muffin research kitchen.
Reaching for an oversized chrome spoon, he gathers an intimate quantity of dried muffin remnants,
And brushing his scapular aside, procceds to dump these inside of his shirt.
He turns to us and speaks:
"Some people like cupcakes better. I, for one, care less for them."
Arrogantly twisting the sterile canvas snoot of a fully charged icing anointment utensil,
He poots forths a quarter-ounce green rosette...
Let's try that again. He poots forth a quarter-ounce green rosette
Near the summit of a dense but radiant muffin of his own design.
Later he says:
"Some people, some people like cupcakes exclusively, while myself,
I say there is naught nor ought there be nothing so exalted on the face of God's grey
Earth as that prince of foods – the muffin."
Girl, you thought he was a man, but he was a muffin.
He hung around till you found that he didn't know nuthin'.
Girl, you thought he was a man, but he only was a-puffin'.
No cries is heard in the night as a result of him stuffin'.
Girl, you thought he was a man, but he was a muffin.
No cries is heard in the night as a result of him stuffin'.
Bruce Fowler on trombone.
Napoleon Murphy Brock on tenor sax and lead vocals.
Terry Bozzio on drums.
Tom Fowler on bass.
Denny Walley on slide.
George Duke on keyboards.
Captain Beefheart on vocals and soprano sax and madness.
Thank you very much for coming to the concert tonight, hope you enjoyed it.
Goodnight, Austin, Texas. Wherever you are.
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