Up this morning with the sun
Not looking forward to a day of run
Run to here, run to there
Some times I wish I didn't care
Yet today is not for me
It's about my husband, see
His pressure has been sky high
And I'm worried so that I
Am making sure that he gets fixed
So that his ashes are not mixed
With wood from the fire that we
Used to cremate his body, see
We can't afford the cremation fees
So we'd have to burn him with the trees
At our red-neck burial party
First prize goes to the most arty
Of the home made crafted urns
In the which we'd put his burns
And I'm not ready to wipe his ass
And so off to the doctor we go, alas
So that we can be spared our
Red-neck funeral power