That's Your Funeral

He's a born undertaker's mute
I can see him in a black silk suit
Following behind the funeral procession
With his features fixed in a suitable expression

There'll be horses with tall black plumes
To escort us to the family tombs
With mourners In all corners
Who've been taught to weep in tune

And then the coffin lined with satin
That's your funeral
That's your funeral!
Large enough to wear your hat in
That's your funeral
That's your funeral!
We're just here to glamourise you for that endless sleep
You might just as well look fetching
When you're six feet deep

At the wake we'll drink a toddy
To the body beautiful
That's your funeral (not our funeral)
That's your funeral

If you're fond of overeating
That's your funeral
That's your funeral!
Starve yourself by undereating
That's your funeral
That's your funeral!

Visualize the earth descending on you clod by clod
You can't come back when you're buried
Underneath the sod
We will not reduce our prices
Keep your vices usual
That's your funeral
Not our funeral
That's your funeral

I don't think this song is funny
That's your funeral
That's your funeral
Here's the boy, now where's the money?
That's your funeral
That's your funeral!
We don't harbour thoughts macabre
There's no need to frown
In the end we'll either burn you up or nail you down

We love coughs and wheezes
And diseases called incurable
That's your funeral
No one else's funeral
That's your
That's your funeral!