Words and music copyright ©1980 by Howard Ashby Kranz


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1. Zozie’s got a splintered glass that makes tapestries from the junk that’s on your rug

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And under her lid is a glistening thought that can clear or cloud your senses like a drug

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But give her a tune and some dancing room she can glide like a conjuror’s flame.

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She overcomes time, turns blood into wine, and makes tangoers out of the lame.

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Zo’s got the power to heal the sick, but the healthy she infects with her own bug.



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2. Zozie’s got a crystal ball that can forecast the way you’re going to change your plans

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But Zozie needs no book of stars; she’s got nothing plotted yet nothing is left to chance.

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Just give her a space and crank up the bass, she can make your dancefloor boil

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She can shimmy like Kate, she can twist like fate; she can shuffle off your mortal coil.

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Got no nets to break her fall, cause from where she’s going she don’t care where she lands.



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Woh, zo zo  zo zo-oh-oh oh-oh-oh, oh.


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3. Zozie, I asked her, who are you? and she just started tapping and twirling to the beat of the drum.

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Zozie, I asked her, is that all there is? and she laughed as if to say no, this is only some.

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Now all the false prophets are on the floor, yeah the magi are on the make

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They’re dressed in the look and they’re singing the hook and they think that the rhythm is fate.

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But Zozie only wants to fly, and dancing is as close as she can come.


F#           G G# A            B              E                                

Woh, zo zo zo zo-oh-oh oh-oh-oh, oh.