Today, class, we're gonna talk a little about casket side manner, and body display

Yo, waterhead typhoon, noodle clear, Thai food

Both hands embalmed when I tried to, make dust

Peelin' skin off my fingers, like dried glue

Super Zooper wax tarp in, a human hash market

I'm dabbin' in green slats by the back golfin'

Psychic game, I'm Matt Dolphins, strat solvents

Went lit fishin', by a brook trout

Fresh core, cookin' wood fire on a dead moss

Song from the pines, pleasant felt

Out the hunter lodge slung the pheasant pelt (Uh)

Stone harf header elk

Boil fiddlehead in reddish kelp, Zooper

In a stoop of keys, no piano on the beat

Rip your eardrums out, and drop an anvil on it

Severed head in my lap (What?)

I know it's wrong, put it back in a black plastic bag, then wrote this song

This beat vintage (what?), like it brought my folks along

Coke stains on the corduroys chalky

Then talky, if a pork knuckle on the walkie (Ahh)

I held a conference, pull a piece, if the Hell is wanted

Quick to open my jacket like I'm sellin' watches

Shit is dark-y, and corny

I'm the jack of all trades, the master of the morgue

Entrepreneur by day, embalmer by night

And drainin' blood from dead bodies, is my life