She was only a small runt From the lands of Missouri When Roosevelt decided to make her A household name With his hand in her pocket And a shallow grave in her name They set out for the city Searching for fame There's no use in keeping secrets Her name is bacon They might see her tomorrow Her name is bacon Though she might have changed it Her name is bacon Within weeks they were fighting What was passion had turned into coal/cold Still he wouldn't leave her even when She'd run out of love So with a blade in her left hand And a white rose between her lips She cut his throat on new year's eve And stuffed his corpse in the fridge There's no use in keeping secrets Her name is bacon They/he might see her tomorrow Her name is bacon There's no use in keeping secrets Her name is bacon Though she might have changed it Her name is bacon