Break Up Letter

bless his soul

and pass the

Tchaikovsky Cello Concertos

and tuna casserole

for rock concert

dinners and salsa

at big Joe's

Muy Muy Bueno

Started out, just drinkin' beer
I didn't know how or why
Or what I was doin' there
Just a couple more
Made me feel a little better
Believe me when I tell you
It was nothin' to do with the letter

I ran right out of beer
I took a look into the larder
No bones, nothin'
I'd better go and get somethin' harder
Back in a flash
I started on a dash of Jamaica rum
Me and Pat Malone
Drinking on our ow-ow-ow-own

Woh-hoh-oh, the nips are gettin' bigger
Woh-yeah, the nips are gettin' bigger
Wo-hoh-oh, the nips are gettin' bigger
Yeah-eah-eah, mmm they're gettin' bigger

Sometimes I wonder
What all these chemicals
Are doin' to my brain
Doesn't worry me enough
To stop me from doin' it agai-ai-ain
Wipin' out brain cells
By the millions but I don't care
It doesn't worry me
Even though
I ain't got a lot to spare-are-are

Woh-hoh-oh, the nips are gettin' bigger
Woh-yeah-eah, the nips are gettin' bigger
Wo-hoh-oh, the nips are gettin' bigger
Yeah-eah-eah, they're gettin' bigger

(a musical interlude)

Buena Enchilada Hut.

I've got heartburn

and bad gas

(damn you, Exxon!)

polluting the air

, airing the pollution,

silently satisfyingly smirking

ocelot-loving hippies and

genteel ladies in

extremely short minis