I picked up a magazine one afternoon
There was an article about the city of Rangoon
I looked at a picture and nearly fell off of my seat
Oh, Lord, it was Jimmy, walking down the street

Who the hell is buried in Jimmy's grave?
Who the hell is buried in Jimmy's grave?
Who the hell is buried in Jimmy's grave?
Who the hell is buried in Jimmy's grave?

The picture was clear as can be
The beady eyes, the bad teeth, oh, it was Jimmy
The picture I guessed had to be knew
'Cause when he died, he didn't have that brand new tattoo

I called the photographer in New York--to see when he took the picture. He was found dead one afternoon, a bottle of Drain-O poured down his throat. Old Man Cooper at the mortuary--I talked to him, and he said--"Just leave things alone, boy." They found him a week later dead. Oh...

This knowledge I crave
Who the hell is buried in Jimmy's grave?

Yesterday, I got a postcard that said, "I'll be home soon!"
It wasn't signed, but it was postmarked from Rangoon
I'm gonna get a gun, get myself together, and be brave
This time, make damn sure I put Jimmy back into his grave
Back into his grave
Back into his grave...

Who the hell is buried in Jimmy's grave?