Dead in your Bed
Dead in your bed
His wife thinks it's not funny
She thinks it's so childish
Feeling so good
Dead in your bed
On a Sunday afternoon
With the telephone disconnected
And the smell of fish on your breath
Dead in your bed
Nothing in your head
No Jesus and Mary stories
Just this dead feeling
And nothing more
Dead in your bed
Who needs something else or other
When you can play dead
No one to talk to
No one to tell you what to do
No one to play with you.
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