Corpse Thoughts

I lay inside this
wooden box
I guess I'm dead
who woulda thought.

I can't remember
getting here
was it some time
after that last beer?

It seems a bit snug
and a little tight
but I guess these things
don't fit just right.

I'm dressed in a suit
of crushed velour
an embarrassment
that I'll endure.

Not really like
I had a choice
cause when you're dead
you have no voice.

There's an acrid smell
down here inside
I suppose it's
just formaldehyde

There's really not
a lot to do
no business ventures
to pursue.

No one to talk to
or in sight
I guess that's just
a corpse's plight.

I'd like to know
who got to choose
these stupid patent
leather shoes.

I guess it really
doesn't matter
dressed up well
or clothed in tatters.

Cause fashion is
of no concern
I just wish there
was room to turn.

Some may say
this was my fate
and others say
hes really great.

What do they know
they're still out there
breathing cool
refreshing air.

Here inside it's
cool and dry
I shouldn't pout
or every cry.

The life I've lived
was full of love
and so I thank
my God above.

I only wish one
thing was clear
did this happen
after that last beer?

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