Death Preferences - State Champion

I was coming down at the Diamond Head DMV when the feeling awoke

I remember you in laughter, death preference flappin' in a bicycle spoke

I remember you in laughter, sincerity our final joke

Another screwball comedy afterlife

Another enemy turned to smoke

A data-mapping assistant, a tripper au pair

You spent a year in a lab-coat county on the paid end of a dare

Making receipts of all the rain-checks and misfortunes that you should bare

In case the world should ever audit you

For what is and isn’t fair

We used to talk with an accent

Just to feel like we were part of the team

Walking halos around Choctaw Mounds

Proud and obscene

Mississippi 1, Mississippi 2, ooh Mississippi streams

Roll past the garage bags

Of berries blue and black

And canisters of aerosol cream

Now Cuban leaves and a hundo for patrolling the dock

Did a year with a wrist-slap buddy just for trying the locks

Arthouse letters to the editor comin' back to me by the box

But the sculpture’s broken heart

Is but a product of unmagical thoughts

Mondrian primaries pulsing through a traphouse grid

I pull a page from the extermination calendar

And leave a note for the Terminex kid

Mississippi 1, Mississippi 2

Miss, you’re lucky you got away when you did

With death preferences

Death preferences

The choir is misfiring in loops

Singing «Death Preferences»

Ooh ooh ooh death preferences

It’s Saturday night, it’s Sunday morning

Everybody’s smoking weed in groups

Now the emperor naps wrapped in Ku Klux linens

I dressed and left so fast that

I think my shadow must have been confused for a minute

To be the cock-rock band criticized by the art-house superintendent

To see your room for the first time

To see a picture of me in it

And all my excuses for staying so long

Lie faced in a duffel

Grab your partner by his or her hand

And do the blood-font pharmacy shuffle

Another screwball comedy afterlife

Another enemy smoked in a brotherly scuffle

I still remember you in laughter

When the accent comes back just how we left it

Oh you know they say that death prefers you, Baby

When you least expect it

And the choir’s admired but the maestro is oh so disrespected

Not a dry seat in the house to be found

And not a dollar off domestics

Death preferences

Death preferences

The maestro is too tired to pull rank

Swingin' «Death Preferences»

Ooh ooh ooh death preferences

It’s Saturday night, it’s Sunday morning

Everybody’s parking at the bank

Mississippi 1, Mississippi 2

I miss you more than you think