'Nay, yon is illegal,' said Man from Pru.
'Grandad will have to be buried,
In a box and shroud in constipated ground.'
At this Grandad looked reet worried.

The Man from the Pru' said he'd come to the burying
And see as how things were done quite right,
Then he staggered off out and we all heard a shout
From the street 'cos he slipped on that stuff that I told you about before.

'I've just done that, 'said the doctor,
So the insuranceman rubbed his nose in it.

So the pretend corpse now had to be buried
Me Dad got an old kipper crate,
When the holes got plugged and the wood it looked good
With plastic brass handles on - great.

'We'll only bury you just till he's gone,
Then we'll dig you up, honest,' Dad said.
It took a bottle of gin before Grandad gave in
And lay int' box to play dead.

  Me Gran looked down at the box saying, 'What a lovely corpse.'
Tears fell on her dripping and toast,
When the body at rest shoved his hand up her vest, saying
'Now then, how's that for a ghost?'

So we put the box on big Mabel's coal cart
And off to t'cemetery we set,
We followed on bikes and all seemed quite right
Until another burying we met.

A policeman was stood on point duty,
'Cos there was a fault on the traffic lights,
But he fell to the ground with his arms flaying round
'Cos' he slipped on the road on another load of that stuff I was
telling you about before.

'We just done that,' said the doctor and the insurance man,
So the policeman rubbed their noses in it.

As he spun on the ground the traffic flew round,
And the two buryings got in a jam,
Their driver took a poke at me Dad wi' a wrench
And got a kick up the shoemaker's off me Mam.
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