Joe has just worked himself into
an imaginary frenzy during the fade-out of his imaginary song
He begins to feel depressed now. He knows the end is near. He has realized
at last that imaginary guitar notes and imaginary vocals exist only in the mind
of the imaginer.
And ultimately, who gives a fuck anyway? (laugh)...Excuse me...so who gives a fuck anyway? So he goes back to his ugly little room and quietly dreams his last imaginary guitar solo...
Lyrics submitted by nicole
"Watermelon in Easter Hay" as written by Frank Vincent Zappa
Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
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