Sunday At The Cemetery

1 Here lies our country's biggest nerd, his death was a surprise. He never said a nasty word nor anything too wise. 2 Aunt Lilly filled this wooden box, though bulging was the lid. They did attach some extra locks it's true, they really did. 3 This stone stands here to let you know that I have now departed. The Lord did say I had to go last Tuesday, when I farted. 4 Place flowers here, upon my grave and always bring a rose. The fragrance seeps into my cave and entertains my nose. 5 You see the writing on this stone it tells you I have died. What's left of me is only bone the beetles ate my hide. 6 My death was surely premature no one should die at thirty. For my disease there was no cure, this place is damp and dirty. 7 The road was icy, I was pissed I hit a wall of steel. The Reaper had me on his list and there was no appeal. 8 Here lies the butcher of Berlin, he chopped up little guys, existed in perpetual sin and always ordered fries. 9 My name is Wyatt and I drew much faster with my gun. My bullet met a gust that blew, thereafter I was done. 10 This photo shows that I was cute, had assets where it mattered. Just once I jumped without a shute, then kissed the ground and shattered. 11 I like it in this six-foot hole, it's almost like a riot. Yet to escape has been my goal, a ticket? I would buy it. 12 The birds sing lovely every day but nights they go to sleep. It makes us dear departed gay but when it's dark we weep. 13 A tree has sent its little roots into my wooden box. Has entered my black leather boots and ripped my cotton socks. 14 The pipe you see, my little friend is not a silly joke. It guarantees that past the end I CAN light up and smoke. 15 The photo on this marble slab was taken by wife Beth. Developed by the Photo Lab but snapped before my death. 16 So good to see you here again I have a big complaint. A killer by the name of Ben lies next to me, the saint. 17 This automatic, modern stone computerized, connected, means you can talk to me by phone and I don't feel neglected. 18 The preacher talked about my life as if I were a saint, he's living with my lovely wife. At peace, my friend, I ain't. 19 I greet you, Visitor and thank your soul for saying 'Hi', but pardon me for being frank: You stay here long, you die. 20 Please note, all those who visit me the flowers that you bear should come from a good nursery not from the Discount Fair. 21 We bodies do have certain needs so kindly pay attention. Can't stand those parasitic weeds I thought I'd make a mention. 22 When lightning strikes you are in bed while we are scared down under, and don't forget, though we are dead we still can hear the thunder. 23 Here lies, at peace a man named Brian he loved the Kalahari, one day he met a hungry lion it was his last Safari. 24 I rest in peace, forevermore though missing is my torso, I did get angry at a boar, the boar did even more so.