The Worms Crawl In Testo

If you should see a hearse go by
You'll know that you are the next to die
They wrap you up in a big white sheet
And bury you down about six feet
It all goes well for about a week
And then the coffin begins to leak
The worms crawl in, the worms crawl out
The mice* play pinochle on your snout
One little worm that isn't so shy
Crawls in your ear and out your eye
Your eyes they turn to gushy green
Your stomach turns to whipped ice-cream
You spread it all on a piece of bread
And that's what you eat when you are dead
(Variation: mice*--worms)