Someone asked me one day
What was my funniest memory~
I had to tell him about it
And thus this now story~
A bloke I knew Italian died
And to his funeral I thus went~
It was raining simply cats and dogs
But he was a genuine lovely gent~
His wife walked to the graveside
As down there now he lay~
But there was mud everywhere
And this is the story ay?~
Eighteen stone of wife she slipped
And down onto that box~
First time I saw an eighteen stone woman fly
She came out of there just like a fox~
Straight up into the air she flew
And never touched the side~
Three foot above that grave
And with only damaged pride~
No way she was going too
Though love him I'm sure she did~
Will never forget that very day
When on top of him she slid~
The preacher hid his laughing face
I landed in the mud~
I know you think that I am bad
But laughing I landed with a thud~
Had a brand new suit on to
Well that took care of that~
Got mud all over my suit
And ya should'a seen my hat~
First time I've ever seen
An eighteen stone woman fly~
The way she simply came out of there
And ya should'a heard her cry ~

Terrence Michael Sutton
Copyright 2007