There's not a whole lotta nothing
That can be dug out of the grave
Of this life's buried problems
Of all our past mistakes
You can chisel out the tombstone
Making room for all the dates
Of the didn't go the way we planed
That in the dirt now lay to waste
Call in the Pallbearers
To shoulder it all
To help carry the burden
Of where you left off
Hire professional wailers and mourners
To cry for the loss
But can you really afford
Such an extravagant cost
When all is said and done
The last word the preacher will say
Is there's not a whole lotta nothing
That can be dug out of the grave
Mar 21, 2014
Mar 21, 2014 at 8:04 AM UTC
There's not a whole lotta nothing
That can be dug out of the grave
Of this life's buried problems
Of all our past mistakes
You can chisel out the tombstone
Making room for all the dates
Of the didn't go the way we planed
That in the dirt now lay to waste
Call in the Pallbearers
To shoulder it all
To help carry the burden
Of where you left off
Hire professional wailers and mourners
To cry for the loss
But can you really afford
Such an extravagant cost
When all is said and done
The last word the preacher will say
Is there's not a whole lotta nothing
That can be dug out of the grave
I woke up at 2 this morning with the first couple lines going over in my head, went back to bed every few minutes getting back up for more lines till this poem finally left me alone...I'm tired and a bit psychotic for dreaming rhyme.
Request permission to use this poem