Get out of your coffin more often

Get out of your coffin more often

I heard the banging sound of wood
As I was walking by
I heard the sound from where I stood
I thought that I might die!

The reason for my state, you see
Is it was past midnight
I stood at the gates of the cemetery
I nearly spat with fright!

The knocking sound continued louder
As I cowered to the ground
I could have behaved a teeny bit prouder
But, man, that chilling sound!

Standing in a puddle of...liquid
things could not get worse
I began to feel a little insipid
Until I heard the curse!

No, not that kind of curse you fool,
I mean I heard a rude word
Now this is when I lost my cool:
It said “Let me out, you turd!”

Sitting (with a silent h!)
My life before my eyes
That voice again with me engaged
And the ground began to rise!

“Oh grow up man”, the ground then said
“And let me have your hand
And I don’t mean I want to wed,
just get me out of this sand!”



Curiosity drying the front of my pants
I stepped towards the sound
And from between the growing plants
A hand pushed through the ground!

Taking the slimy hand in mine
(blocking my nose with the other)
I pulled so hard it came right off
“You stupid mother *%%*^ !”

Now tired of this mannerless beast
I found myself a spade
and aiming wildly at his skull
A round of golf I played

“Now is this really necessary?”
my golf ball said to me
“I've had a rather frightful night
as you can clearly see”

“Now here’s a deal I'll make with you
to show you that I care
Lets finish the course and at the end
My bottle of rum we'll share”

Duly agreed upon this plan
We both enjoyed the game
And once the final skull was sunk
Good friends we became.