Finale lyrics

Artist  : Various 
Song : Finale



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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,
treatin' her rough,
smackin' her around and
always talkin' so tough.
(You need blood and
he's got more than enough.)
I need blood and
he's got more than enough.
I/(You) need blood
and he's got more than enough.
So go git it!