Once more and we'll let it rest, ok?
Could well just be the shape we're in?
Then again, it may be the grog?
Whatever?
Ingest this concoction, at your own risk.
We are unable to accept responsibility for..
We provide no guarantee.
Slap Happy Pappy's sure `nuff gone now.
Lying on the very bottom of
a six foot hole-
Thousand pounds of blue clay and a head stone-
Whole lotta pressure on a cheap pine box-
So, you think, maybe we're worrying needlessly
about a cave--in?
Did you notice how "she"
wears her skirt much shorter now?
My, oh my, but things sure can
turn full circle, in a blink.
Gads! The stench from the process at
that paper plant is just unbearable.
Someone needs to send someone a note.
How can we express our proper condolences,
when our memories and this atmosphere, both stink?
Oh, Lord. The preacher's gone to lying, again.
He keeps it up, we'll be late for lunch.
Such a gaudy ring worn to a funeral.
Who does he think he is, some uptown punk?
I'm feeling faint. Give me the keys to the auto.
The medicine's in the glove box, hunny.
Want some? Sure, got plenty.
Anyway, looks like a storm headed our way.
Way too cold to get much wet.
`sides that, this fanfare is way excessive.
We all know that the old man was a skunk.
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