Dear Abby lyrics by Kennedys Dead

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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