"We don't use ounces in this place, it's pounds."

I will come in a car long and wide,
Because I must bring along for the ride,
Flowers, my favorites for their perfume,
To rest upon my grave as they inhume,
My body and my music, dreams, and hopes of resurrection,
And my Hawaiian shirt collection,
All packed in tight
"Sweet dreams, my Prince, good night"
In the coffin I have brought,
Upon my journey as I have sought,
Oh to see the glory once before I die,
Of Snook's tall spires on the Texas prairie high,
Her clear waters, her pastures sweet,
And Sodolak's Chicken Fried Bacon once to eat.
They will say it was a death by choice,
Sodolak's, says the inner voice,
"Is death for hire,
Death by deep fat fryer!"
To die thin or to die happy? Do not digress,
That is the question we must address.
Oh, dear friends, should we die young and pretty
Of our woes and cares in the heartless city?
Or should we venture forth, fork in hand
To savor crisp death out upon the land,
That appears at the dawn or noontide,
With a side of gravy on the side?
Sodolak's oh Sodolak's, still my beating heart!
Adieu, farewell, I must part ...
I dream, I die ...
Sodolak's deep fat fry ...