You can eat my brain and paint my skull, but in conversation I'll be deadly dull, 'cause I'm a dead guy. You can scrape off the road and put me on a plate, or you're gonna have to cancel our dinner date, 'cause I'm a dead guy. So break out the ouija board and let me impress you. Now that I'm dead I can truly possess you. But I don't have a mind. I can't mentally undress you. With the rigor mortis gone I've loosened up some, and if I seem a bit unfeeling, it's cause I'm totally numb. You can burn me up or let me rot, and Ill just terrorize a farmhouse 'til my head gets shot, 'cause I'm a dead guy.

Oh woe is me and I am woe
The blackness of my soul permeates the essence of my former being
I would never lie to you
The moon is slightly more than slightly sequitur
And I would gladly lick the gods themselves that they provide our supper

So now I'll just reincarnate 'til I'm one with Brahma, and I'll brag to my friends that I've achieved nirvana and my soul'll go to Heaven or to Hell where I don't wanna go. My heart may have stopped and my flesh may be decaying, but who know what'll happen if we keep on praying. You can wrap me up and bandages and stick me in a tomb, and you can tell my little sister she can have my room. You can dress me up in drag and shackle me in lead, but you could even do that if I wasn't dead. Put some money in my mouth and float me down the river, and tell all my relatives to start sittin shiva. I'm a dead guy.