(The following is a ditty we used to sing as children for our own amusement that I recently sent to a friend, after commenting on a TV program I saw about pathologists studying dead bodies' decomposition and recording the data therefrom to assist with time-of-death determinations.)
"Didja ever think when a hearse goes by,
That you would be the next to die?
They wrap you in a big white sheet,
And bury you about 6 feet deep.
You're quite all right for the first few weeks,
But then your coffin starts to leak--
The worms crawl in, the worms crawl out,
The worms play pinochle on your snout!
Your stomach turns a slimy green,
And guts pour out like thick whipped cream!
You sop it up with a piece of bread,
And that's what you eat after you're dead!
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