Captain Beefheart, His Magic Band, The Mascara Snake, Frank Zappa - Pena lyrics

Pena, her little head clinking
Like a barrel of red velvet
Balls full past noise treats filled her eyes
Turning them yellow like enamel-coated tacks
Soft like butter, hard not to pour
Out enjoying the sun
While sitting on a turned-on waffle iron
Smoke billowing up from between her legs
Made me vomit beautifully
And crush a chandelier fall on my stomach
And view her from a thousand happened faucets
Liquid red salt ran over crystals
I later band-aided the area
Sighed, oh well, it was worth it
Pena pleased, but sore
From sitting chose to stub her toe
And view the white pulps
Horribly large in their red pockets
"I'm tired of playing baby, " she exclaimed
And out of a blue felt box
Let escape one yellow butterfly the same size
Its droppings were tiny
Green phosphorous worms
That moved in tuck and rolls
That clacked and whispered
In their confinement
Three little burnt scotch taped
Windows several yards away
Mouths open to tongues that
Vibrated and lost saliva
Pena exclaimed, "That's the raspberries"