Frank Zappa (guitar)
Tony Duran (slide guitar)
George Duke (tack piano)
Sal Marquez (trumpet, vocals)
Chris Peterson (vocals)
Joel Peskin (tenor saxophone)
Mike Altschul (baritone saxophone, piccolo)
Erroneous (electric bass)
Aynsley Dunbar (drums)
Your mouth is your religion.
You put your faith in a hole like that?
You put your trust and your belief
Above your jaw, and no relief
Have I found.
I heard your story when you come home
You said you went to see your sister last night.
Well, you might loose a bunch of teeth
And find a funeral wreath
While you'll be laying in the ground
All alone
So tell me where are you coming from
With all them lines
As you stumble in at the breakin' of the day.
Where are you coming from, my shot-gun say
Because he just might want to blow you away
'cause he just might want to blow you away
An evil woman, can make ya cry
If you believe her every time she lies
Well you can be a big fool
If she makes you loose your cool, and so
I've got me some advice you should try
Just let her talk a little
Just let her talk a little more
Just... let her talk a little more
And when she runs out of words
Just say the same thing that I told you before...
Tell me where are you coming from
With all them lines
As you stumble in at the breakin' of the day.
Where are you coming from, my shot-gun say
Because he just might want to blow you away
'cause he just might want to blow you away
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