Dear Abby
Dead Kennedys
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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
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Written by: Darren Henley, Eric Reed Boucher, Geoffrey Lyall, Raymond John Pepperelle
Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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"Dear Abby Lyrics." Lyrics.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 24 Apr. 2024. <https://www.lyrics.com/lyric/19435010/Dead+Kennedys/Dear+Abby>.
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