| Lyrics: | Feed me. Feed me. Feed me.
Feed me, Seymour. Feed me all night long.
(That's right, boy!
You can do it!)
Feed me, Seymour. Feed me all night long. (Ha, ha, ha, ha ha.)
'Cause if
you feed me, Seymour, I can grow up big and strong.
Would you like a Cadillac car?
Or a
guest shot on Jack Paar?
How about a date with Hedy Lamarr?
You gonna git it. (If you want
it, baby.)
How would you like to be a big wheel,
dinin' out for every meal?
I'm the
plant to make it all real.
You gonna git it.
Hey, I'm your genie, I'm your friend. I'm your
willing slave.
Take a chance. Feed me, eh? You know what kinda eats,
what kinda red hot
treats, what kinda sticky licky sweets I crave.
Come on, Seymour, don't be a putz.
Trust me
and your life will surely rival King Tut's.
Show a little initiative, boy. Work up some
guts
and you'll git it.
(I don't know. I don't know.
I have so, so many strong
reservations.
Should I go and perform mutilations?)
Think about a room at the
Ritz,
wrapped in velvet, covered in glitz.
A little nookie gonna clean up those zits
and
you'll git it.
(Gee, I'd like a Harley machine,
toolin' around like I was James
Dean,
makin' all the guys on the corner turn green.)
So go git it.
If you want to be
profound, if you really got to justify,
take a whiff and look around. A lot of folks deserve to
die.
Stupid woman. Christ, what a friggin' scatterbrain.
I'm sorry, doctor.
Falls off
the motorcycle.
If you want a rationale, it isn't very hard to see, no, no, no.
Stop and
think it over, pal. The guy sure looks like plant foot to me.
The guy sure looks like plant
food to me.
The guy sure looks like plant food to me.
He's so nasty, t |
