There is a dead
opera star
floating in the great,
dismal swamp.
And he was wearing a dress with watermelons on it.
And he stuffed his bra with Spanish moss.
Dead opera star.
Dead opera star.
Dead opera star.
Floating in the great,
dismal swamp.
Black tube below,
where all the planet's neon goes to die.
The air hangs thick
with dead electricity.
He was chased by ball lightning and
crazy from sleeping under the moonlight.
And the soul of an unbaptized infant
who swims the waters of setting boats.
Dead
opera star.
Dead opera star.
Dead opera star.
Floating in the great,
dismal swamp.
