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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required WHERE THERE IS A WILL It has been over three months now and still no Grans will Through the letterbox; comes another, got to be paid bill As the insurance didn’t cover for my Grans Zombie death Then left all alone, to clean up after the Zombie aftermath Then there were the bills for dear old Grans cremation fee Nobody ever thinks of this; after that Zombie killing spree Maybe I should have just kept her cheaper in the long run As life after the zombies had left me feeling, so hard done I'm on the back porch overlooking the back garden yonder And to where my Grans will was; I am left alone to ponder The cats are out there digging seems they found a mound Strange; I can’t remember burying anything in the ground So I got myself a spade and helped the cats along the way Could this be where Gran had hid the will and my lucky day Well; what a flamin’ shocker, when up popped old man Will Seems smelly Gran, did have a heart; after him, she did kill And; had buried Will in our back garden as an afterthought Maybe as to killing Will had left my Gran feeling overfraught But thinking; of yet another bill, that I would be left to pay I hit him over the head with my shovel, and just let him lay I swore the cats to secrecy, no digging or no more tin tuna As in a box you will be packed & quickly posted off to Cuba Well; I found the will but not quite the one I was expecting I was starting to wonder if that note left needed correcting As I thought of another pork shank as then to give to Fred Who was now, the only half living Zombie of the living dead To amend the note left by Gran before she was dead, dead But: if darn I could even understand, a flamin' word he said Sounded like he was saying, it was hidden under Grans bed And; that he had made a mistake on how Gran's letter read So I left him chomping on the pork shank; and, off we went The cats and me, now hoping, it’s what the message meant I got a hammer and saw and the cats sharpened their claws I set upon the floorboards praying, it was all in a just cause The cats set upon the mattress, with, a vigour never known And not to say the greed for a will should ever be condoned But to no avail, smelly Gran's missing will just was not there And the situation; so had the cats and me, totally in despair We were running out of dosh: and, life was no longer a joke The bank account was empty and, we were more than broke With it no more big pork shanks for Fred in his potting shed Who was as now roaming the streets playing the living dead The army came and intervened, and took poor old Fred away My fiscal load was lightened no more big pork shank’s to pay No more visit's to Fred's potting shed, to feed him every day And; darn no more tomatoes as they were juicy in every way Indiana Shaw . . . “In continuation to The Zombies are coming, O' dear Gran's not happy, The last day, and Gran's last message, and Life goes on" . . . : /
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