The Death Of Lt. Casanova.

Jerry: “This next one’s Uh Not In the book It’s actually about The Death of Lt. Casanova He had a piece in the first Shellies A song called “All Of Us.” That he wrote And uh, it’s really just a little piece about What happens to him it’s It’s really about the consequences of fascist morality Um It’s when duty takes over, when er When masochistic urges like keep you here, like a thing like this when you’d rather go home and do something else But you Somebody’s here that you wanna impress, and you can’t leave.” Audience: “Ain’t got no home!” Jerry: “Ain’t got no home? Alright! You’re a Smart Prole. Nowhere to go But uh His early eroticism is made a mockery of… and blocked by authoritarian government, and uh. This is what happens Uh, Jungle Jim? Can we have a drumroll?” They found him dead With her panties On his head A nylon energy triangle That didn’t work Apex over the soft spot The two big holes Where his ears should’ve been The… The CPR Teenage ambulance driver was Queer He took his pleasure Freely Alternating between The two new tracks left by the Lt’s 45 Pink young interns Sprayed wide Puzzled by the Presence of Live sperm in the Lt’s brain One Licked his lips in anticipation But later vomited On a tattletale nurse who saw hair and blood on the Lt’s- On the ambulance drivers pants She was silent And bright With so many cassette recordings Of Long-distance abuse To the Lt From his norig S&M bride But all the hush hush was er Premature The Lt’s Mother Was a Blind Vegetable First, her teeth went Then her eyes Next The hair and body Widowed at 51 Mr Casanova killed by a drill press For the second time, she insisted on an open-casket funeral The mortician was All for the hip All for the hip He felt like leaving those panties right where they had been found! For all to see! It would be so apropo, yeah! But A telegram soaked in vixen piss From Europa Put a stop to his Paramilitary Fantasies! Nah-Nah-Nah-Nih-Naugahyde Nah-Nah-Nah-Nih-Naugahyde Nah-Nah-Nah-Nih-Naugahyde Nah-Nah-Nah-Nih-Naugahyde Nah-Nah-Nah-Nih-Naugahyde Beat me! Beat you! Nah-Nah-Nah-Nih-Naugahyde I gotta know if it’s soft inside Nah-Nah-Nah-Nih-Naugahyde Swallow everybody’s pride! Nah-Nah-Nah-Nih-Naugahyde Let all my people go! Nah-Nah-Nah-Nih-Naugahyde Beat me! Beat you! Nah-Nah-Nah-Nih-Naugahyde I gotta know if it’s soft inside Nah-Nah-Nah-Nih-Naugahyde Swallow everybody’s pride! Nah-Nah-Nah-Nih-Naugahyde Let all my people go! Jerry: “Well, okay, Jerry Casale.”