Don Pardo: In today's rapidly changing world, musical groups appear almost every day with some new promotional device. Some of these devices have been known to leave irreparable scars on the minds of foolish young consumers. One such case is seated before you, live on stage—yes, Terry Bozzio, that cute little drummer. Terry recently fell in love with a publicity photo of a boy named Punky Meadows, lead guitar player from a group called ANGEL. In the photo, Punky was seen with a beautiful shiny hairdo in a semi-profile which emphasized the pooched out succulence of his insolent pouting rictus, the sight of which drove the helpless drummer mad with desire!

I can't stand the way he pouts
'Cause he might not be pouting for me!
(Pouting for you? You . . . Hah! Hah!
Oh, Don . . . You silly fool, pouting, ah!)
His hair's so shiny and it's done real nice
'Til I squirm with ecstasy!

Punky, Punky, give me your lips
To die on . .

Oh, Punky, isn't it romantic?

Punky, Punky, give me your whips
To die on . . . I promise not to come in your mouth
Punky, Punky, your album's the shits
It's all wrong . . . but listen, this is no laughing matter

I ain't really queer
But if he ever got near
Steven Tyler would PAY to see!
Pay to see

Punky's whips, Punky's whips
His hair's so shiny, I love his hips
I love his teeth, 'n his gums 'n such . .
PUNKY
(What's up, skin drummer?)
You're an ANGEL . .
You're too much
He's been havin' a rash
(No shit)
That keeps the girls away
Skin doom
Is what the doctors say

I wonder if Punky is rehearsin' today
I'll just go over, 'n hear him play
His hair is so pretty . . . I'd like to bite his neck
I've heard a rumor he's more fluid than Jeff Beck
But dig this . .
I AIN'T QUEER
I AIN'T GAY
(He's a little fond of chiffon in a wrist array
A wrist array)

Punky's lips, Punky's lips
Let me tell you
He makes me squirt eatin' dunk-y chips
Oh, I love his blink and his blank-blank-blank
Yeah! Listen, Punky, how'd you like to yank my crank?
YANK IT PUNKY! YANK IT HARDER!
YEAH, THAT'S RIGHT! YANK IT FASTER!
YANK IT ALL NITE LONG!
COME ON PUNKY! GET FUNKY!
I AIN'T QUEER
(NO NO NO NO)
I AIN'T GAY
(NO NO NO NO)
(He's a little fond of chiffon in a wrist array)
That's all it is
(A wrist array)
I AIN'T QUEER
I AIN'T GAY
(He's a little fond of chiffon in a wrist array)

I-I'm fo-fo-o-o-nd
Of chiffo-on
In a wrist array-ee-ay-hey
That's—
That's what I—
That's what I say
I-I-I-I-I-I-I
Lord, I'm fo-o-nd
Of chiffo-on
In a wrist array
Come on, Punky!
I
I'm fond of chiffon
Come on, Punky
Hey! I'm fond of it!

FZ: Thank You. Our Birthday Boy, Terry Bozzio! Sad but true . . . Just a minute . .