I Want To Be Buried With My Mobile Phone
by Michael Ashby

I want to be buried with my mobile phone
So I can ring in the changes at my new home
With central heating and a marble en-suite
And lots of thermal socks for my poor cold feet
I’ll be able to give in to a takeaway
And watch favourite movies on a rainy day
And if I’m feeling a bit under the weather
I’ll talk to you until I begin to feel better

I’ve got party hats, fairy cakes and songs to sing
In case somebody should chance to drop in
Which is much more likely than you’d think
As my coffin roof is on the blink

I’ll be leaving you now as I’ve got a waiting call
It’s from my new friend over by the cemetery wall
I watched the service yesterday through my periscope
They buried him with his mobile, their little joke
But he’ll have the last laugh, when his bill drops through their door
Fourteen hundred and forty minutes a day, for eternity and evermore

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