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Dear Abby, lyric by Dead Kennedys

from the songs album Bedtime For Democracy


Dear abby,

Got a problem. i'm a decent, underpaid, hardworking county coroner. it's
Important that my family eat meat at least three times a week. but we just can't
Afford to with the prices the way they are. so i bring home some choice cuts from my
Autopsy subjects. just mix in the tuna helper??and ta-da!

The whole family thinks my new meals are delicious. they ask me what's
My secret. abby, i think they're getting suspicious. my smart-ass 8-year-old keeps
Asking, "where's all the meat? the red dye #2 kind that's kept in the fridge."

If they find out the truth i don't think they'll understand. abby, what do i tell
My family?
Dear reaganomics victim: consult your clergyman. make sure the body's
Blessed and everything should be just fine.


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