How I love to see a bier, More biers!
One tall bier fills me with cheer, More biers!
Near a coffin I think often
“I have no fears”
There lie people who are quiet, gentle dears.

I love dead people, dead people love me
When I go to the cemetery,
I shout, “Hi, corpses!”
And the departed, deceased ones, the free
They call so sweetly, discreetly to me. I think the late ones
Truly are the great ones
So when we’re speaking,
My happiness is peaking. Some day dead people,
Dead people will be
More than just some strangers to me.

If you’re Hindu, you cremate, More fire!
Then the dead reincarnate, More pyre!
There’s no joking while you’re smoking
And bones expire
But interment in the ground is not as dire.

I love dead people, dead people love me
Not gonna steal ya, necrophilia
Is not my passion.
Skip the Te Deum, eternal ennui,
Gay mausoleum’s the grand place to be. Me and my dead pals,
Even if they’re Red pals,
We’ll make our last home
Right underneath a vast dome. Some day the whole gang,
The whole gang will be
Cast in Wilder’s “Our Town,” Act Three.