The worms in the ground are queuing up for me
queuing up for me, queuing up for me
The worms in the ground are queuing up for me
They’re even more impatient than I am
The old gravediggers are lining up for me
lining up for me, lining up for me
The old gravediggers are lining up for me
Dead and buried by half past three
The angels of the lord are polishing the gate
polishing the gate, polishing the gate
The angels of the lord are polishing the gate
I’m in no hurry to make them wait
The devil has arrived with the ownership papers
ownership papers, ownership papers
The devil has arrived with the ownership papers
The pearly gates are closed to the likes of me
If I’d my time again I’d be a whole lot better
be a whole lot better, be a whole lot better
If I’d my time again be a whole lot better
or else I’d be a damn sight worse
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem