That's Your Funeral — Oliver: текст песни | pesni.ru
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That's Your Funeral Oliver

Текст песниаккорды

Mr. Bumble (Spoken)

Liberal terms, Mr. Sowerberry...Liberal terms? Three pounds!

Sowerberry (Spoken)

Well, as a matter of fact, I was needing a boy....

Mr. Bumble

He's a born undertaker's mute. I can see him in his black silk suit. Following behind the funeral procession... With his features fixed in a suitable expression. There'll be horses with tall balck plumes To escort us to the family tombs, With mourners In all corners Who've been taught to week in tune.

Then the coffin lined with satin. That's your funeral.

Mrs. Sowerberry

That's your funeral.

Sowerberry

Large enough to wear your hat in. That's your funearl.

Mrs. Sowerberry

That's your funeral.

Sowerberry

We're just here to glamourize you for that Endless sleep.

Mrs. Sowerberry And Sowerberry

You might just as well look fetching When you're six feet deep.

Mrs. Sowerberry

At the wake we'll drink a toddy To the body beautiful.

Mr. Sowerberry

That's your funeral.

Mrs. Sowerberry

Not our funeral.

Both

That's your funeral.

Sowerberry

If you're fond of overeating That's your funeral.

Mrs. Sowerberry

That's your funeral.

Sowerberry

Starve yourself by undereating That's your funeral.

The Funeral Procession

That's your funeral?

Mrs. Sowerberry

Visualize the earth descentind on you clod by clod. You can't come back when you're buried Underneath the ...sod.

Mrs. Sowerberry And Sowerberry

We will not reduce our prices. Keep your vices usual.

Sowerberry

That's your funeral.

Mrs. Sowerbery

Not our funeral.

Mrs. Sowerberry

Not our funeral.

All

That's your funeral.

Mr. Bumble

I don't think this song is funny.

Sowerberry

That's your funeral.

Mr. Bumble

Here's the boy, now where's the money?

Sowerberry

That's your funeral.

Mr. Bumble

That's your funeral.

Sowerberry

We don't harbour thoughts macabre, There's no need to frown.

Mrs. Sowerberry And Soweberry

In the end we'll either burn you up or nail you donw. We love coughs and wheezes And diseases called incurable. That's your funeral. No one else's funearl.

Sowerberry

That's your...

Mrs. Soweberry

That's your...

Both

Funeral!