Here I am, sat here in yesterday's underpants
worrying if they're clean
enough to prove me a decent, repectable
human being.
If that lorry hits me
will I really care
when they strip me in the mortuary
and see my underwear?
Will mum rise from her grave and shout
I TOLD YOU SO!
Will I rise from mine
just to die of shame
or will she meet me up in heaven
clutching a fresh pair.
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