My Life Would Be a Riot

My life would be a riot And my thoughts would be more bold If my grave was not so quiet And my girth was not so cold I thought about a diet But my precious life was sold No reason left to buy it When your brain is growing mold I wish I could deny it But my roots have taken hold Nobody else should try it Even for a bag of gold Cremation is the option that is better when you fly it Or so they say when you are growing old I don’t know why I had to die but even my disquiet Was better when my sugar was controlled The moral of this story is to people who apply it Including those who live outside the fold That belly fat is common to the people who supply it But even more to skin that has been rolled.