Have you ever seen a body on a slab in a mortuary?
Identify me, identify, Identify, me.
Your hair brushed back, your skin so white,
Your face, your face, such a deathly site.
Not a pretty site!

Have you ever seen a body, lying in a chapel of rest?
Cry for me, cry for, cry for me.
Your hands so cold, your face so dead.
The coroner's slice around your head.
Not a pretty sight!

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, burn me, burn in God we trust.

Have you ever seen relations laughing after someone has died?
They giggle and snigger and hide their guilt inside.
As you lie dead, your body is rotten.
Your memory, your memory, is quickly forgotten.
Not a pretty sight!

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, burn me, burn in God we trust.

Have you ever seen vultures grab every penny they can?
Cart away your possessions in a brand, new Bedford van.
Their skin so tanned, their clothes so neat.
Expensive leather shoes lie upon their feet.
Not a pretty sight!

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, burn me, burn in God we trust.
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, burn me, burn in God we trust.

© Edward ian Armchair 2002