In a three-ply coffin with brass-bound handles, carried by six of my friends, that's the way you can bury me when this long life ends. I went to a funeral parlour to make my last request. Fella looked me up and down and said, you'll want the best. Inlaid silver and stainless steel, the satin lining is part of the deal. Air-conditioned with a mattress bed and a foam rubber cushion under your head. While I shook with laughter, he looked forlorn and sad. When I got up off the floor, I said, you must be mad. While I'm alive and kicking, I'm spending all my dough. Cos you can't take it with you, no matter how you go. I've seen some fancy funerals with big black limousines. And jokers dressed in mourning clothes with white starch collars and seams. It'll look the most impressive sight, I really must admit. But the bloke inside the coffin ain't enjoying it one bit. I think it's a waste of money that could otherwise be used. On having a good time while you're here, on horses, sheilas and birds. So let's all live it up for now, the future hasn't come. And when it does, and you gotta go, here's how I want it done. In the three-pie coffin with a brass bandhandle, is carried by six of my friends. You've done your dash, you've spent your cash, that's how a good life ends. You've done your dash, you've spent your cash, that's how a good life ends. You've done your dash, you've spent your cash, that's how a good life ends. You've done your dash, you've spent your cash, that's how a good life ends. www.larryweaver.com