So, when some moo-cow thunders in here with a pie under each chin, I'm not supposed to ask if that's the Star Spangled banner she's belching so I know whether to sit or stand
Why is it that Elvis is dead and I'm the one in hell
Sure selling shoes is fun. But behind the glamour, it's like any other minimum wage slow death
You go home and tell your daddy you have the mail-man's eyes