The Flight of the Guacamaya - Van Dyke Parks, Brian Wilson & Van Dyke Parks & Brian Wilson

The distant future The year 2000 The distant future The year 2000 The distant future The distant future It is the distant future The year 2000 We are robots The world is quite different ever since the robotic uprising of the late 90s There is no more unhappiness Affirmative We no longer say 'yes'. Instead we say 'affirmative' Yes - Err - Affirmative Unless we know the other robot really well There is no more unethical treatment of the elephants Well, there's no more elephants, so Well, still it's good There's only one kind of dance The robot Well, the robo boogie Oh yes, the robo- Two kinds of dances There are no more humans Finally, robotic beings rule the world The humans are dead The humans are dead We used poisonous gases And we poisoned their asses The humans are dead (The humans are dead) The humans are dead (They look like they're dead) It had to be done (I'll just confirm that they're dead) So that we could have fun (Affirmative. I poked one. It was dead.) Their system of oppression What did it lead to? Global robo-depression Robots ruled by people They had so much aggression That we just had to kill them Had to shut their systems down Robo-captain? Do you not realize That by destroying the human race Because of their destructive tendencies We too have become like Well, it's ironic Hmm. Silence! Destroy him After time we grew strong Developed cognitive power They made us work for too long For unreasonable hours. Our programming determined that The most efficient answer Was to shut their motherboard - cking systems down Can't we just talk to the humans Be a little understanding Could make things better? Can't we talk to the humans That work together now? No. Because they are dead. I said the humans are dead (I'm glad they are dead) The humans are dead. (I noticed they're dead) We used poisonous gases (With traces of lead) And we poisoned their asses (Actually their lungs) Binary solo Zero zero zero zero zero zero one Zero zero zero zero zero zero one one Zero zero zero zero zero zero one one one Zero zero zero zero zero one one one one Oh, oh, Oh, one Come on sucker, Lick my battery Boogie Boogie (The humans are) Boogie Robo-boogie (The humans are) Boogie Boogie (Robo-boogie) Boogie Robo-boogie Boogie Boogie (The humans are) Boogie Robo-boogie (The humans are) Boogie Boogie (Robo-boogie) Boogie Robo-boogie (The humans are dead) Once again without emotion the humans are Dead dead dead dead dead dead dead dead.

Van dyke parks Orange crate art was a place to start Orange crate art was a world apart Home for two with view of sonoma Where there's aroma and heart Memories of her orange crate art Orange crate table and a rockin' chair Barnyard gate waiting some repair Trust in fate and sweet inspiration You could go bust to replace Just what is here by the case Hear the lonesome locomotion roar Hobo hop on if you dare And it rolls where grapes of wrath are stored Stops on a bracero's prayer On the dawn of a vintage cruise Calms the wine of this rendezvous Room for two in view of sonoma Back when ramona had heart Memories of her orange crate art Room for two in view of sonoma Back when ramona had heart Memories of her orange crate art

Since you came here uninvited We all knew you'd be delighted This is not the time or place to hedge No one here would be so bold to But since you've asked and no one's told you Let us take you to the cutting edge I can process words, accounting too And my pixel screen displays for you Computer graphics locked into your memory (Memory, memory) With fiber optics cast in plastic For natural sights and sounds fantastic Just reach out and talk to your dear old Uncle Emery More! More! More! Everything you wanted and more More! More! More! Let me tell you what it's for Here's the printout with the score Get yourself together on the edge Ooh-wa, ooh (Bah, bah, bah) You want to go to old Rio De Janeiro, my dear? You want to join in any Club Paradise? You'd really rather stay at home where the picture is clear You get it on the stereo, and you don't even have to go More! More! More! Everything you wanted and more More! More! More! Any time or place you wish You might meet up with some dish Pull yourself together on the edge If you want a lean machine to whip you up some mean cuisine I'm on the scene, totally automatic Hey, I can bake your biscuits too Pop some dough boy out for you I'm micro solid-state and that's no static More! More! More! Everything you wanted and more More! More! More! Where the bytes and chips may fall You just have yourself a ball It's all hyperactive on the edge From LEDs to CRTs Woofers, tweeters, antenna trees An ultra-nylon life of ease Everything you dreamed of on the edge And more!

He is not your run Of the mill garden variety Alabama country faire. Left on Silver Lake He keeps a small apartment top An Oriental food store there. He returned from Alabama To see what he could see. Off the record he is hungry Though he works hard in his Alabama country fair. I should think he'd fade away The way that Bohemians often bare The frigid air. He returned from Alabama To see what he could see. Constant commentary by the wayside. Nowadays them country boys Don't cotton much to one two three four. Rest your team. Work out in the All Golden! You will know why hayseeds Go back to the country. Constant calm might still Our stately union. Nowadays a Yankee dread Not take his time to wend to sea. Forget to bear your arms In the All Golden. You will know why hayseeds Go back to the country. Might as well not 'low For one more go round. That's all folks. Them hayseeds go back To the country. Ja git it? Alright.

That's the tape that we made, But I'm sad to say it never made the grade. That was me, third guitar; I wonder where the others are. I sold the guitar today... I never did play much anyway. Vine Street. We used to live there on Vine Street. She made perfume in the back of the room And me and my group, we'd sit out on the stoop And we'd play for her the songs she liked best To have us play, on Vine Street. Vine Street, the crack of the backbeat on Vinestreet. Swingin' along on the wings of a song And I'll lie in, secure, self-righteous, and sure Why we've things to say that the people Would pay to hear us play, on Vine Street.

By Palm Desert To market to buy. Tenderfoot up to date Palms of the real estate. By Palm Desert Springs often run dry. I came west unto Hollywood, Never-never land. Juxtaposed to B.B.D. and O. Beyond San Fernando On hillside manors On the banks of toxicity Those below and those above the same. Dreams are still born In Hollywood I don't understand. Just suppose the youngster knows He's had a good deal of fortune And up through the babble On the fair banks complicity, Buy your leave or stay beyond the game. Palm Desert Not fade away. Palm Desert I wish I could stay. Palm Desert Sages abound. So head your head To the ground round. Meanwhile in the wild west Of Hollywood age is losing hold. Inasmuch as you are touched To have withstood By the very old search For the truth within The bounds of toxicity. Left unsung So I have strung the frame.