Wham, wham, and the nails go in. How many nails in the coffin of the world? As many as you have and twice again as many. Bring the slabs of pine, coat them with the resin - we don't want no leaks here - and wear your Sunday best.
Wham, wham, thank you ma'am, that'll be a dollar fifty. Your cancelled soul is your receipt. When they come for you, make sure you get the kosher meal, and stand in the back so the elderly and infirm can wallow in the pit. You'll be on the last train, so don't pack until your neighbors are gone and beasts wander the empty streets, defecating in the mailboxes and watching the pay channels.
Wham, wham, how long will it take for me to beat some sense into you? You've a thick noggin, but my solvent is mighty. Dip your head in that, there, thank you, that'll be a dollar fifty.
Wham, wham, was that my life? Wait, I wasn't paying attention. Can I try that again?
Wham, wham, the egg is fertilized. You no longer own yourself. Your lives for the children, as it has always been and shall always be. What did you think, that God made the world? He might have written the spec, but the contractors have a mean streak in them. You should have thought of that before you took your pants off.