Bodies as Suitcases

I look for car wrecks when I'm bored, can't stop watching
Cause I was promised that a killer time would be had by all
In a town famous for automobiles
They were with us and making daiquiri's on ice
I had to work that night
But they partied it up like champs 'til they died
All right
They didn't take it to the chest
A mountain of rich bodies in the tub
Another mess for the maid to clean up
No, you got to move on
Don't leave me yet
No, you got to believe me
Those fuckers killed themselves
Poor Marcy scampers on the floor; she can't stop coughing
Ironically she had the most abdominal fortitude of us all
All we are, are suitcases, holding other people's stuff
No, you got to move on
Don't leave me yet
No, you got to believe me
Follow, make me follow
They tried to make me follow, make me follow