play me the old Bones song
fingers like spiders, a little too long
play your brass trumpet
and play in your head
you can keep playing
play for the dead

eyes roll back to his soul, he moans
he sees inside it's a bag of old bones
rattling inside
all the muscles gone
heart not missing
no, it won't be long

play them old Jones blues
hair like the ravens, mysterious hue
fingers keep growing
shoulders broaden
heart burns strong
this path has been trodden