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 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.