You'll always miss my big old body
In its prime and never shoddy,
While bloodhounds wait down in the lobby you'll eulogize my big old body
You'll miss me in effigies
lighting up your house like Xmas trees
As tears roll down below your knees
You'll miss me with effigies
Go find a man to fit my shoes
Left one's on and the right one's new
And I bought the right one just for you
Go find a man to fit my shoes
Your money talks but my genius walks
Morticians wait with a shovel and a fork
As detectives trace my hands with chalk
Your money talks but my genius walks
You'll miss me, but I'm already dead
It must be raining because a man ain't supposed to cry
But I look up and I don't see a cloud
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