In the morning when you wake up,
Then pour the coffee in ur coffee cup.
Oh the skies are never empty,
In the mounds that make a father come.
Is there a heaven I wonder?
Is there a hell down under us?
Maybe son I don't know I don't know,
But, mostly I don't care.
It's just like that Robert frost poem,
So for those that go on dying in their clothes and underwear.
That tune is awful nice and it shall suffice,
What is life if not holly unfair?