Oh,with whales and fish I want to be
I must be buried out at sea
Please send a brief text to me
Lest I commit adultery.
Please don’t send a lifeboat to a storm
You never seened to understand
Neither the lyrics nor the band
The negatives writhe hand in hand
The undertaker’s under-planned
My cast off skin won’t do him any harm.
He’s angry as his profits down
He prefers to bury folk in the ground
Ideally in a coffin sound
Made from any wood around…#=
My stitches won’t undo unless we’re calm