It's funny that when I die my friends will get to see what kind of suit my mom buries me in

I hope it's dark blue with blue stars

I hope it's dark blue with blue stars

I hope it's dark blue with blue stars

When the priest leans over me, starts talkin' about Jesus and the state of my soul,

please remind him "We're havin' a funeral here, not a play"

We're havin' a funeral here, not a play

We're havin' a funeral here, not a play

Pick me up, four for each side of the bars

March me to the shiny black car

The winding recession of cars mostly of silver and black

Gentlemen in black suits and the ladies in black dresses and gloves

Now carry me out to the grave

The spot where I'm paid to be buried

And just before whoever gives the command to send my coffin down

I jump out of the box

I tap dance from head to all heads

I swoop and I spin

(can't hear)

I laugh like a baby, so happy and free

And then no one will see, no one will notice me!