Six Feet Under

Well, old Joe, he kicked the bucket,
Bought the farm, he cashed his chips,
Rode the pale horse, flatlined sudden,
Took that last and final trip.

He went six feet under, pushing daisies,
Met his maker, joined the choir,
Punched his ticket, shuffle's over,
Left this life, his soul's on fire.

He took a dirt nap, met the Reaper,
Gave up the ghost, slipped away,
Went to the great beyond, no keeper,
Took the final train that day.

He croaked, assumed room temperature,
Checked out, bought the big one too,
Crossed the River Styx, no venture,
Got his wings and bid adieu.

Now he's gone, his light's extinguished,
Clocked out, faded to the black,
Gone to the big sleep, life's relinquished,
Ain't no chance he's coming back.

He hit the end of line, went belly up,
Passed on to the sky so high,
Rolled the credits, curtains shut,
Said goodbye with a final sigh.

Old Joe, he kicked the bucket,
Bought the farm, he cashed his chips,
Rode the pale horse, flatlined sudden,
Took that last and final trip.