The Vicar, Mr Harvey was a miserable sod
And he thought it an utter disgrace
And he gave her a look like she'd farted in church
Like they'd dropped a stitch when they knitted his face

That's not really a hymn", he explained with a sigh
He could see that she hadn't a clue
But she wouldn't be phased, "He liked 'Songs of Praise',
She says, "The Old Rugged Cross, that'll do"

"Why don't you let me pick the hymns" t'vicar says
"Well if you're sure you don't think it's a cheek,
And do you mind if we have him cremated,
I can't be on wi' visiting each week"

Then he gave her a lecture about dying and that
And he talked for three quarters of an hour
All about life and death and resurrection and that
And God and his almighty power

He said God had made everything on this here earth
And she agreed that he probably had
Well that's all excepting the shed in't back yard
It were Joe that built that with his Dad
  He said that though Joe was still here in body
His spirit were in far nicer place
And she thought right enough he'd be up there
Just starting to unpack his case

And she wondered a while how he was settling in
And if he'd be feeling okay
She thought "That's the worst of being dead, sort of style,
You must feel a bit stiff the next day"

And right enough at that time, Joe was sat on a cloud
Having a crack with some of his mates
Them as had died a few years afore
He were bringing them all up to date

Wi' the 'appenings of Amblethwaite since they'd been gone
They wanted to know all the gen
And a few of em got a bit homesick
Hearing who'd been doing what, where and when

But despite all their tearful reminiscence
His stories just served to compound
A general consensus they were in the right place
Specially wi' taters at a shilling a pound!
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