As you start to catch the vibes from the freaky fab four, your brain starts a-squirming as your body hit's the floor,
You're a-pumping your booty, and your brain's going shooty,
Cooling intellectual juices, 'cause Hay Zoose gives a doody,
Be it in a little Datsun, or a Chevy truck-o'-doom,
Jump in the spotty Buick 'cause there's always extra room,
But you better be prepared, 'cause we don't got central air,
But one thing's for sure: passers by are gonna stare.
D, I, G,
D, I, G.
Here we go...
Well, we got a funky friend; we call him "One-take Jim"
Digging psycho-funky tunes from the dudes to the end,
Laying down funky grooves, putting people through the moves,
Got it down to an art, should be hanging at the Louvre,
Billy is a-slapping, making picky pappys,
Would you like to see his nakin'?
Funky bub ain't slacking, putting bees in my bops and the hips in your hops,
Funky twins to the end - Bill and Jim won't stop.
D, I, G,
D, I, G, (fire in the whole)
D, I, G, H, A, Y, Z, O, O, S, E - the move of the groove of my buddies and me,
Let your mind go free; we'll teach you all to see.
Well, caution to the kiddies, 'cause I'm jumping on the mike,
Vocals busting so high they might scare the little tyke,
Up and down like stars, trilling ' round without a care,
Spinning, bumping onstage like in dancing on air,
And now we come to Dave: he's our six string fave,
Chunky grinds and grunts that always schmooze the babes,
It's with the brothers four that our earthly spirits soar,
And the funky Zoose boys get you all to hit the floor.
D, I, G,
D, I, G, (fire in the whole)
D, I, G, H, A, Y, Z, O, O, S, E - the move of the groove of my buddies and me,
Let your mind go free; we'll teach you all to see that nothing says loving like a turtle in the oven,
On the stage, in a rage - at the tone turn the page.
