Spectres (The)
Switching Heads
Mister Smith well he's dressed all in blackArms are crossed and he's lying on his backNevermore to laugh or cryNevermore to curse or lieGoing on a trip and he ain't coming backMister Jones well he's dressed all in blueEyes rolled back and lips that match his suitIn his nicest tie in his cleanest socksTaking his ease in a big pine boxSoon he'll be resting in the family tombLate for work 'cause I had a drink or sixThat's how I came to be in this terrible fixDressed Smith in black instead of blueJones' family won't be amusedGotta find a way out of this awful mixJones is wedged into his suit of blueRigor mortis makes him too stiff to moveWell just get it fixed is what the boss man saidIf I can't switch suits then I'll just switch headsYes this hacksaw will just have to do
From Letras Mania