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Never laugh when a hearse goes by
Or you will be the next to die
They'll wrap you in a big white sheet
And bury you down about six feet deep
Then again in about a week....
The worms crawl in, the worms crawl out
The worms play pinochle on your snout
A big green worm with bulging eyes crawls in your stomach
and out your thighs
Your stomach turns a glossy green
And pus pours out like whipping cream
You spread it on a piece of bread
And that's what you eat when you are dead.
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By the time you're twenty-five they will say you've gone and blown it. By the time you're thirty-five I must confide you will have blown them all
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