Dead Kennedys - Dear Abby Lyrics

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 eight year-old keeps
Asking, "Where's all the meat? The red dye number two 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