Bored out of my gourd
With nothing going on
So I thought I'd take the time
To write some thoughts in poem

And mostly what pitter-pattered
Inside this hardened head
Were some things that you could do
When you find that you are dead

If you ask me you could be
The perfect sign holder
No matter what the weather
Be it warmer, be it colder

Plus they wouldn't have to pay
You all that much at all
Just come outside every couple weeks
And kindly dust you off

Maybe a babysitter
For unruly kids
As a reminder to behave
Or they'll end up like this

******* a microphone
And take orders at a drive through
You can't do any worse than the living
Who don't seem to have a clue

Or a parking lot valet
Might just be the thing
I'll get back with you on that
I'm still working out the kinks

When there's a numbing in your noggin
And you've no clue of what to do
Thinking of things inside your head
that you can do while your dead
Could be just the thing that will pull you through