Not Dead Yet Poem by John Mccudden

Looking from my coffin as we travel so slow
Look at them crying what do they know
I am happy in here it cosy you know
Middle of winter streets covered in snow

Listen to the preacher face so grim
What dose he know I never knew him
A good man he said as if singing a song
O preacher man we all do wrong

Look at the mourners most I don’t know
All dressed up nowhere to go
Faces froze like ice and snow
Well I can tell them I am happy in here
Can’t Waite for the wake and the pouring of beer

Look at Aunt Mary bible in hand
There is a woman I can’t stand
She is as holey as holey as thou
Me I think she’s a moody old

Look at the flowers must cost a lot
Give them a week they will be forgot
Just like me they care not
Give it a year I will be forgot

So take your time as we move from the church
Why was I their for religion I don’t care much
It’s what they wanted just in case
There is a god who made this place

Well can I tell you its cosy in here
Dry your eyes wipe your tears
I am on a journey to don’t know were
I will send a message when I get there

Take hold of the rope lower me down
I still have hope take off that frown
Hey what happened lights gone down
Well take it I am now under ground