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Ode to a friend,part I :Dear Friend


O,my dear friend
you,who resides in death men's land
look who came to you at midnight
yes,it's us,your friends,you're right
sorry if it's after visiting hours
and because we didn't brought flowers
but we weren't that close after all
and didn't even turn up at your funeral
o yes,we didn't even liked you
you can call it hate,that's true
so,what's the point of us being here?
wouldn't you like to know that,my dear?
well,this is the answer you get
we just wanted to make sure you're really dead



Ode to a friend,part II:Look at you

O,dear friend
yes it's us again
we try to visit you as much as we can
alive you were always a bore
but dead you amuse us more
we dug up your coffin yesterday
and now we lift the lid,if we may
look at you lying there
your skeleton almost bare
you never liked the Beatles,
but the beetles seem to like you
we know you see the irony too
and we always thought you had no guts
but the insects disagreed with that very much
critters crawling from your eyesockets
creatures creeping out of your pockets
but they shouldn't have bothered
because you never had anything in them for others
you never paid for a present,not even for your wife
but in the end you paid with your life
your polished shoes,tailored suit
are they now doing you any good?


Ode to a friend,part III:a bone to pick

It's a beautiful day,if they could birds would chime
so now we visit your grave in the daytime
it's time to lift you from your coffin
and let the fun begin
slowly lifting you from your deathbed
O,something snaps,there goes your head
rolling from the grassy hill
it slowly comes to a standstill
laughing we drop you on the earth
and hoping you won't be hurt
we play soccer with your skull
a game you always thought was very dull
i feel sorry as i crush your teeth
your pride and glory,yes indeed
we always thought your skull was very thick
but it cannot resist my last kick
pieces flying around
carelessly we trample them in the ground
i use your ribs for some juggling
while a dog is with your fibula struggling
and at the end of the day when we are through
we boil your bones down to glue
you were always a kind of stick
and with us had a bone to pick




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