Ever wonder how those malls play holiday music?
Keep your internet connection and never lose it?
Keep the lights on in your depressing man cave?
Keep the water warm so you can shower and shave?
You can give your thanks to the utility wizards
Necromancy keeps you warm during blizzards
Now that your eyes popped out of your sockets
We run on dead bodies, it’s how we line our pockets
Feed the giant slab of rotten gray beef jerky
Through the dynamo of swamp water so murky
Boil them corpses like a pot of spaghetti
Let the green steam get the juicy juices ready
What’s the matter, kid? You think this is wrong?
Grab the hippie-dippie guitar, write a protest song
It’s not like we killed the dead bodies ourselves
Who cares when their souls are stuck in hell?
Exploiting dead people is a great business model
When politicians do it, the press is sucking milk bottles
When Vince McMahon does it, it’s a sure ratings draw
Whether the corpse has hands or puppy-duppy paws
It’s all in bad taste, but it ain’t nuclear waste
We’ve got no souls, but at least it ain’t coal
Call us super villains, we don’t give a goddamn
They’re your lights, bro, you’ve got the wrong man
What do you mean we’ve failed the safety inspections?
What do you mean the civil court is now in session?
What do you mean we’ve got to pay a billion dollars?
What do you mean we’ve got debt collecting callers?
What do you mean we’re going right out of business?
What do you mean the plaintiffs got their own star witness?
What do you mean we got to put on these orange onesies?
What do you mean our cellmates are extra snuggly?
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