They bathed me They clothed me Not in the dress I loved all those years ago
They dropped me In the cheap plot To save a couple dimes seems like such a crime
And all that loving, that's leaving Replaced now with complaining down in this hole And I'll be spitting on the living 'til I get my cross of Connemara stone
To save money For his plain wife My stupid son never grasped the finer points of life
My guts burst But my mind stays sharp In this cold clay, the cemetery dust
And all that loving, that's leaving Replaced now with complaining down in this hole And I'll be spitting on the living 'til I get my cross of Connemara stone
They'll be Talking and talking eternally Fussing and fighting eternally Cursing and crying eternally Bawling, back-biting eternally
