Well Harry had a good job
working' for the Secret Service
He had a wife and kids at home
who made him awful nervous
He'd never done a damn thing
you could call experimental
And he had this aching feeling that
his life was accidental
So one day he burned his pinstripe suit
and his leather shoulder holster
He snapped a Polaroid and
made a giant wanted poster
He took it to a print shop and
ordered up a thousand flyers
And walked next door to the laundromat
and blew his brains out in the drier
And the tag on his toe read Death
by misadventure
Ain't that some way to go Death
by misadventure
Well Harry's wife Estella took
this matter rather lightly
She could have cried and cried
but then her looks might come unsightly
She thought about her wardrobe and
how much it was outdated
And how this trumped up family
thing was vastly overrated
Her kids both turned against her and
they took to drugs and stealing
Some junkie killed 'em both for two
dime bags they were dealing
And sitting home alone disgusted by it all
She blew the sole survivor off
with ninety Nembutals
And the tag on her toe read Death
by misadventure
Ain't that some way to go Death
by misadventure
So be careful how you choose your path
and who you pick to go with
Some folks they take to living fast
while some prefer a slow death
Some folks get confused and
never quite know how they're going
When you're laid out on that slab
we're all the worse for knowing
That the tag on your toe reads Death
by misadventure
What a silly way to go Death
by misadventure