Before the Body Gets Cold

[fasstrack]

BEFORE THE BODY GETS COLD Lyric c Joel Fass Exemplar 2012

Your death was a terrible tragedy

We now watch its aftermath unfold

And since we offer this world not one blessed thing

But for mining vicarious gold

We hasten to reach that bountiful mine

Before the vein grows clotted with time

Before the body gets cold

We've grieved so terribly awfully

From the dreadful moment we were told

Still, life is for the living

And product made to be sold

Time to rush it off to market

Before the story gets old

Before the body gets cold

Death---it is said---is the shrewdest career move

As will those of us who are alive and still here prove

So we hope you won't think it too much of a queer move

To deem your demise, well, a bit of a dear move

For the living have careers, too---and bills in arrears, too

And for your generous gift bon voyage to you!

So on behalf of myself and my colleagues

Who, like everyone, must make a buck

Condolences to all your loved ones

We wish them all the luck....

Though ourselves we're wishing even more

for a campaign crass and bold

Time to stock, stock---then overstock

There are suckers dying to get rolled

No need to push, folks, there'll be plenty for all

Once we divvy up that gold

Then we'll break every sales record known to man

Step right up---the body's getting cold

Er, is there a thermometer in the house?

Edited February 16, 2012 by fasstrack

[A Lark Ascending]

[JSngry]

BEFORE THE BODY GETS COLD Lyric c Joel Fass Exemplar 2012

Your death was a terrible tragedy

We now watch its aftermath unfold

And since we offer this world not one blessed thing

But for mining vicarious gold

We hasten to reach that bountiful mine

Before the vein grows clotted with time

Before the body gets cold

We've grieved so terribly awfully

From the dreadful moment we were told

Still, life is for the living

And product made to be sold

Time to rush it off to market

Before the story gets old

Before the body gets cold

Death---it is said---is the shrewdest career move

As will those of us who are alive and still here prove

So we hope you won't think it too much of a queer move

To deem your demise, well, a bit of a dear move

For the living have careers, too---and bills in arrears, too

And for your generous gift bon voyage to you!

So on behalf of myself and my colleagues

Who, like everyone, must make a buck

Condolences to all your loved ones

We wish them all the luck....

Though ourselves we're wishing even more

for a campaign crass and bold

Time to stock, stock---then overstock

There are suckers dying to get rolled

No need to push, there'll be plenty for all

Once we divvy up that gold

Then we'll break every sales record known to man

Step right up---the body's getting cold

Er, is there a thermometer in the house?

You should get Tupac to do this one.

[alocispepraluger102]

all dead people are immediately absolved of all transgressions and debts.

every funeral i've attended stated that the deceased, no matter how flawed and unrepentant. had entered the promised land.

the financial key for most any recording jazz musician would be to 'fake it.'

[fasstrack]

BEFORE THE BODY GETS COLD Lyric c Joel Fass Exemplar 2012

Your death was a terrible tragedy

We now watch its aftermath unfold

And since we offer this world not one blessed thing

But for mining vicarious gold

We hasten to reach that bountiful mine

Before the vein grows clotted with time

Before the body gets cold

We've grieved so terribly awfully

From the dreadful moment we were told

Still, life is for the living

And product made to be sold

Time to rush it off to market

Before the story gets old

Before the body gets cold

Death---it is said---is the shrewdest career move

As will those of us who are alive and still here prove

So we hope you won't think it too much of a queer move

To deem your demise, well, a bit of a dear move

For the living have careers, too---and bills in arrears, too

And for your generous gift bon voyage to you!

So on behalf of myself and my colleagues

Who, like everyone, must make a buck

Condolences to all your loved ones

We wish them all the luck....

Though ourselves we're wishing even more

for a campaign crass and bold

Time to stock, stock---then overstock

There are suckers dying to get rolled

No need to push, there'll be plenty for all

Once we divvy up that gold

Then we'll break every sales record known to man

Step right up---the body's getting cold

Er, is there a thermometer in the house?

You should get Tupac to do this one.

I wrote it for Whitney---and Michael Jackson. Not that I spent lots of time listening to either. But Michael still has maggots all over him and Whitney's journey into necro-sales is but beginning. Ah, Amerika......

BEFORE THE BODY GETS COLD Lyric c Joel Fass Exemplar 2012

Your death was a terrible tragedy

We now watch its aftermath unfold

And since we offer this world not one blessed thing

But for mining vicarious gold

We hasten to reach that bountiful mine

Before the vein grows clotted with time

Before the body gets cold

We've grieved so terribly awfully

From the dreadful moment we were told

Still, life is for the living

And product made to be sold

Time to rush it off to market

Before the story gets old

Before the body gets cold

Death---it is said---is the shrewdest career move

As will those of us who are alive and still here prove

So we hope you won't think it too much of a queer move

To deem your demise, well, a bit of a dear move

For the living have careers, too---and bills in arrears, too

And for your generous gift bon voyage to you!

So on behalf of myself and my colleagues

Who, like everyone, must make a buck

Condolences to all your loved ones

We wish them all the luck....

Though ourselves we're wishing even more

for a campaign crass and bold

Time to stock, stock---then overstock

There are suckers dying to get rolled

No need to push, there'll be plenty for all

Once we divvy up that gold

Then we'll break every sales record known to man

Step right up---the body's getting cold

Er, is there a thermometer in the house?

You should get Tupac to do this one.

I wrote it for Whitney---and Michael Jackson. Not that I spent lots of time listening to either. But Michael still has maggots all over him and Whitney's journey into necro-sales is but beginning. Ah, Amerika......

[Peter Johnson]

'Fraid Morrissey beat you to the punch!

Paint a Vulgar Picture (The Smiths)

At the record company meeting

On their hands - a dead star

And oh, the plans they weave

And oh, the sickening greed

At the record company party

On their hands - a dead star

The sycophantic slags all say :

"I knew him first, and I knew him well"

Re-issue ! Re-package ! Re-package !

Re-evaluate the songs

Double-pack with a photograph

Extra Track (and a tacky badge)

A-list, playlist

"Please them , please them !"

"Please them !"

(sadly, THIS was your life)

But you could have said no

If you'd wanted to

You could have said no

If you'd wanted to

BPI, MTV, BBC

"Please them ! Please them !"

(sadly this was your life)

But you could have said no

If you'd wanted to

You could have walked away

...Couldn't you ?

I touched you at the soundcheck

You had no real way of knowing

In my heart I begged "Take me with you ...

I don't care where you're going..."

But to you I was faceless

I was fawning, I was boring

Just a child from those ugly new houses

Who could never begin to know

Who could never really know

Oh ...

Best of ! Most of !

Satiate the need

Slip them into different sleeves !

Buy both, and feel deceived

Climber - new entry, re-entry

World tour ! ("media whore")

"Please the Press in Belgium !"

(THIS was your life...)

And when it fails to recoup ?

Well, maybe :

You just haven't earned it yet, baby

I walked a pace behind you at the soundcheck

You're just the same as I am

What makes most people feel happy

Leads us headlong into harm

So, in my bedroom in those 'ugly new houses'

I danced my legs down to the knees

But me and my 'true love'

Will never meet again ...

At the record company meeting

On their hands - at last ! - a dead star !

But they can never taint you in my eyes

No, they can never touch you now

No, they cannot hurt you, my darling

They cannot touch you now

But me and my 'true love'

Will never meet again

[David Ayers]

Not worth a cent when they were alive, then, Whitney and Jacko? Of course on this board we are only interested in living artists.

[fasstrack]

'Fraid Morrissey beat you to the punch!

Paint a Vulgar Picture (The Smiths)

At the record company meeting

On their hands - a dead star

And oh, the plans they weave

And oh, the sickening greed

At the record company party

On their hands - a dead star

The sycophantic slags all say :

"I knew him first, and I knew him well"

Re-issue ! Re-package ! Re-package !

Re-evaluate the songs

Double-pack with a photograph

Extra Track (and a tacky badge)

A-list, playlist

"Please them , please them !"

"Please them !"

(sadly, THIS was your life)

But you could have said no

If you'd wanted to

You could have said no

If you'd wanted to

BPI, MTV, BBC

"Please them ! Please them !"

(sadly this was your life)

But you could have said no

If you'd wanted to

You could have walked away

...Couldn't you ?

I touched you at the soundcheck

You had no real way of knowing

In my heart I begged "Take me with you ...

I don't care where you're going..."

But to you I was faceless

I was fawning, I was boring

Just a child from those ugly new houses

Who could never begin to know

Who could never really know

Oh ...

Best of ! Most of !

Satiate the need

Slip them into different sleeves !

Buy both, and feel deceived

Climber - new entry, re-entry

World tour ! ("media whore")

"Please the Press in Belgium !"

(THIS was your life...)

And when it fails to recoup ?

Well, maybe :

You just haven't earned it yet, baby

I walked a pace behind you at the soundcheck

You're just the same as I am

What makes most people feel happy

Leads us headlong into harm

So, in my bedroom in those 'ugly new houses'

I danced my legs down to the knees

But me and my 'true love'

Will never meet again ...

At the record company meeting

On their hands - at last ! - a dead star !

But they can never taint you in my eyes

No, they can never touch you now

No, they cannot hurt you, my darling

They cannot touch you now

But me and my 'true love'

Will never meet again

Oh shit! DUELING POEMS!Anyone else?

Well done, Peter m'boy

Not worth a cent when they were alive, then, Whitney and Jacko? Of course on this board we are only interested in living artists.

Ha! How many sarcasms would you like with that morning coffee, sir?

the financial key for most any recording jazz musician would be to 'fake it.'

Too much work. Stay alive and sell aluminum siding. No, wait.....Whitney Houston T-shirts!! That's the ticket..... Edited February 16, 2012 by fasstrack

[AllenLowe]

there's an old movie with Dick van Dyke (maybe written by Carl Reiner) in which he's a starving painter living in, I think, Paris, who can't give his stuff away; so he fakes his death and his painting prices go crazy.

Edited February 16, 2012 by AllenLowe

[fasstrack]

there's an old movie with Dick van Dyke (maybe written by Carl Reiner) in which he's a starving painter living in, I think, Paris, who can't give his stuff away; so he fakes his death and his painting prices go crazy.

And then there's Gigot, starring Jackie Gleason as a deaf mute Frenchman. In the film people are convinced he has died and hold a funeral.He shows up and starts crying to mourn the dead.

[cih]

Bring me flowers whiles I'm livin'

Then don't bring them when I am dead

Bring me flowers whiles I'm livin'

Please don't bring them when I am dead

And bring ice bags to my bedside

Hoo-well-well, to cool my achin' head ...

... Don't bring me flowers after I'm dead

A dead man sho' can't smell

Don't bring me flowers after I'm dead

A dead man sho' can't smell

And if I don't go to heaven

Hoo-well-well, I sure don't need no flowers in hell.

Peetie Wheatstraw