Although saddened by the passing of more of the stars of my youth
I wonder if, at the funeral, they played the parody :
When-a, When-a, When-a, it's my turn to go
I wanna be cremated
Don't need a shov-el, or a back hoe
I wanna be cremated
Just get me to the furnace, put me in the flame
Never mind a casket, or headstone with my name
I can't afford a funeral, or eulogy that's lame
Oh no no no no noooo
When-a, When-a, When-a, it's my turn to go
I wanna be cremated
Don't need a shov-el, or a back hoe
I wanna be cremated
Not mockery, memory