Dear Abby Lyrics - Bedtime For Democracy - Dead Kennedys

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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