It's the Voice (1975)

From the musical "Bulbous!"

MIDI file

When a jockey has to talk he hasn't any choice
But to summon up a flexible and snappy voice
So the groupie list'ning in her suite will not believe he's obsolete,
Unworthy of his spot upon the dial;
It's the voice that tells 'em whether you're a top-notch jock,
If you're driving time material or just a schlock;
The rapidity with which you speak will give your show a true mystique
No matter what is passing through your smile.
Talk of anybody's uncle or a rheumatoid carbuncle
Or a burgundy gardenia or the soldiers in Armenia
Or a platypus named Sidney or a bladder with no kidney
Or a partridge in a watermelon tree.

With the placing of a stylus on a brand-new disc
When you foreannounce you take a calculated risk
'Cause you're try'na sell the pooblic on the new one by the Oobleck
And they may not give a hydro'lectric dam.
It's your job to turn a song into a golden hit
Even if your conscience tells you it's a piece of stuff;
It's a case of vocalizin' on a record you're despisin',
It's a race between the mind and diaphragm.
Talk about an armadillo or a dodo feather pillow
Or a systematic piston or the wife of Sonny Liston
Or a dirty antiseptic or a dancing cataleptic
Or a Bushman with a carrot for a nose.

It's an ego trip, it's a get-off, it's a Hut Sut Rillera,
When you wag your tongue like a fruitcake, when you make with the blah blah blah;
It's a weather vane, it's a bootlace, it's a tra ra boom de re,
When your vocal cords get a workout, when your brain goes on a berserk-out;
If you get a little punchy for a radiola munchy read a spot today!

When you make a living on your personality
It's important that you're talking educatedly;
Show the people you're well-rounded and their fears will be unfounded
Though your music may give lie to what you claim.
On a bunch of diff'rent topics you should base your act,
So you get a laugh from what should be a boring fact;
A variety of areas will make your show hilarious
Although it somehow always sounds the same.
Speaking freely on mantissas or the Afars & the Issas
Or a metamorphic mountain or a carrot cola fountain
Or a calendar of comets or a sea squirt when it vomits
Or a poster of your camel in the raw.

It's a right-on-man, it's a far-out, it's a ja da jing jing jing,
When your trachea does a blastoff, when your glottis is in full swing;
It's a straight-ahead, it's a get-down, it's a mairzy dozy doats,
When to freak out is the convention, when a frenzy is your intention;
Give the people indication that you have an aberration
And you'll win their votes!

As a DJ you'll be gabbin' till the ducks come home,
So you've gotta have the urge in ev'ry centrosome
To elucidate forever on a matter that is clever
Or philosophize the cosmic and the deep.
If you never start a sentence that is sure to bomb
You're an asset to the station that you're beaming from;
Turn the audience to butter with each mouthful that you utter
And be sure to never put yourself to sleep.
With regard to Pennsylvania or obscene decalcomania
Or a cherub's bow and arrow or a losing hand at faro
Or a slice of ginger peachy or the films of Don Ameche
Or a bucket of Louisiana sludge.

All you have to do to get off is to talk your damn-fool head off
And tell all the other jocks to go to... (cough)

 

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