The man that preached the funeral said it really was a simple way to die He laid down to rest one afternoon and never opened up his eyes They hired me and Fred and Joe to dig the grave and carry up some chairs It took us seven hours and I guess we must have drunk a case of beer
I guess I ought to go and watch them put him down but I don't own a suit And anyway when they start talkin' about the fire in hell I get spooked So let's just sit here in the truck and act like we don't know him when they pass Anyway, when they're all through we got to go to work and mow the grass
Here they come and who's that riding in that big old shiney limousine Look at all that chrome I do believe that that's the sharpest thing I've seen That must belong to his rich uncle someone said he owned a big old farm When they get parked let's mosey down and look it over that won't do no harm
That must be the widow in the car and won't you take a look at that That sure is a pretty dress you know some women do look good in black He's not even in the ground and they tell me his truck is up for sale They say she took it pretty hard but you can't tell too much behind a veil
Listen ain't that pretty when a bugler plays a military taps I think when you were in the war they always hide and play a song like that Well here we are and there he goes and I guess that you might call it our bad luck I hope he rests in peace but the trouble is the fellow owes us forty bucksTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
