Recycled Lives

David Clevenstien
Gets into his car
Drives down the highway
To bad he can’t get very far
Because he ain’t got any friends
Except for Mr. Sanchez
He’s a golden retriever and
To fat to walk
There’s a place where
All the recycled lives go
It’s called BB&T
Chorus, chorus, chorus, chorus, chorus
Susie feeds her fishes
Pays her taxes on time
Plats all her eggplants
In a pretty little line
Goes to her sucky job
Calls people at their homes
Selling ink and toner
On her Panasonic phone
There’s a place where
All the recycled lives go
It’s called Ameridial
People trash their lives
Not doing nothing
But making money
So they can die rich
But they don’t realize
You don’t need to be rich
If you’re already dead