They bathed me

They clothed me

Not in the dress I loved all those years ago

They dropped me

In the cheap plot

To save a couple dimes seems like such a crime

And all that loving, that's leaving

Replaced now with complaining down in this hole

And I'll be spitting on the living

'til I get my cross of Connemara stone

To save money

For his plain wife

My stupid son never grasped the finer points of life

My guts burst

But my mind stays sharp

In this cold clay, the cemetery dust

And all that loving, that's leaving

Replaced now with complaining down in this hole

And I'll be spitting on the living

'til I get my cross of Connemara stone

They'll be

Talking and talking eternally

Fussing and fighting eternally

Cursing and crying eternally

Bawling, back-biting eternally