Loudon Wainwright Iii Bed
Experiments and tests have shown
We sleep sounder when alone
If unentangled there we lie
Then it's easier to kind of die
For though there's pulse and shallow breath
Falling asleep's a kind of death
And I suppose death has it's charms
When it's done in someone else arms
You bet someone the reason why
Is when you cum you kind of die
Who can say what you two did?
Made some whoopee or a kid
Bed's much more than just one thing
It's God and boat and boxing ring
It's desert island, mountain top
It's cradle, grave, and final stop
A bed of nails, a bed of coals
Pierce your skin, now see your souls
A bed of greens, the ocean bed
Go to sleep, go on, play dead
And we all a lullaby
A little prayer before we die
And when we die where do we go?
Is it up above or else down below?
It's back and forth, or so it seems
If after-life is like our dreams
Some say this life's a dream instead
I say real life begins in bed
