Frank Testo

Frank, I heard you passed away

The pumpkin rests today

But the muffins that you baked

Were much more than I can repay


Frank, the newts in Idaho
Are sad to see you go

But now, to sleep you gracefully succumb


Over by my house there's a sad and mournful hush

But somewhere in the aether there are churches being taxed

And Tipper Gore is sucking cock


Now it just won't be the same

The world is much more lame

But it won't be you who failed

If the parasites prevail
I'll miss you Frank