Hello, I'm Mister Dead A dork is a dork. Oh yes, by George But he's no good if he can't get engorged He can't grow forth, attain true north He's the lame old Mister Dead He's often the source of much remorse Your saber's a little light with the Force To hands, solo, she now resorts Thanks to Mister Dead People humpety-hump all week They boink their lives away But Mister Dead can only leak He's in no condition to play Oh, it's good to be hung just like a horse But, if you can't get up for intercourse The rabbit wins and you came in fourth Ya piss and that's it!!! I am Mister Dead