The Final Word

It comes to every one of us,
But there's something you can do
To get the final word in
After life has clobbered you.

Please take time to plan your funeral,
It's kinder if folk know;
They'll never be left wondering
If it was how you wished to go.

You'll do everyone a favour,
Whatever plans death's hatching,
To let those people close know now
The way you'd like despatching.

They can plant me in a tea-chest,
It's how I want sent packing.
Forget the hefty wooden box
That does some b*gger's back in.

I don't want a morbid send-off;
I want fun and jollity,
The mother of all p*ss-ups
And much frivolity

Carve these words upon my headstone,
For nothing else will do;
"When banana skins are falling
I'll come sliding back to you"