I was shuffling the street down the churchyard
With intent to beg some money for booze
So there was the last day for the rest of my life
I'm trying to drunk dial to my wise God
Just to keep me in the game, but I lose
He is so kind just to cut the line with his knife
While the sun is splashing spitting golden sparks
Shades of early autumn slink with noiseless tread
Whispering to aged men strolling in the park
What a perfect day to kick the bucket!
Wind blows
Through the holes in my pockets that mean nothing has changed
Dolce vita and me - we were always estranged
Then the priest yells, his voice rings as a bell
His soft blue eyes are sticky with the money, as well
He invites us to buy the merchandise o with Holy Church
Trademark or to burn in hell
Let's shuffle
Dear loafers. Beware of how you dance on this path
Though blue bus will have to pick up each of us
Thanks a lot for all the things that must pas
Let us shuffle as long as I'm right here with you
One day later the Lord will behold me
With the holed pockets full of the morning dew