Oliver Musical Lyrics

That's Your Funeral

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That's Your Funeral Lyrics

    MR. BUMBLE spoken
    Liberal terms, Mr. Sowerberry...Liberal terms? Three pounds!

    SOWERBERRY spoken
    Well, as a matter of fact, I was needing a boy....

    MR. BUMBLE
    He's a born undertaker's mute.
    I can see him in his black silk suit.
    Following behind the funeral procession...
    With his features fixed in a suitable expression.
    There'll be horses with tall balck plumes
    To escort us to the family tombs,
    With mourners
    In all corners
    Who've been taught to week in tune.

    Then the coffin lined with satin.
    That's your funeral.

    MRS. SOWERBERRY
    That's your funeral.

    SOWERBERRY
    Large enough to wear your hat in.
    That's your funearl.

    MRS. SOWERBERRY
    That's your funeral.

    SOWERBERRY
    We're just here to glamourize you for that
    Endless sleep.

    MRS. SOWERBERRY & SOWERBERRY
    You might just as well look fetching
    When you're six feet deep.

    MRS. SOWERBERRY
    At the wake we'll drink a toddy
    To the body beautiful.

    MR. SOWERBERRY
    That's your funeral.

    MRS. SOWERBERRY
    Not our funeral.

    BOTH
    That's your funeral.

    SOWERBERRY
    If you're fond of overeating
    That's your funeral.

    MRS. SOWERBERRY
    That's your funeral.

    SOWERBERRY
    Starve yourself by undereating
    That's your funeral.

    THE FUNERAL PROCESSION
    That's your funeral?

    MRS. SOWERBERRY
    Visualize the earth descentind on you clod by clod.
    You can't come back when you're buried
    Underneath the ...sod.

    MRS. SOWERBERRY & SOWERBERRY
    We will not reduce our prices.
    Keep your vices usual.

    SOWERBERRY
    That's your funeral.

    MRS. SOWERBERY
    Not our funeral.

    MRS. SOWERBERRY
    Not our funeral.

    ALL
    That's your funeral.

    MR. BUMBLE
    I don't think this song is funny.

    SOWERBERRY
    That's your funeral.

    MR. BUMBLE
    Here's the boy, now where's the money?

    SOWERBERRY
    That's your funeral.

    MR. BUMBLE
    That's your funeral.

    SOWERBERRY
    We don't harbour thoughts macabre,
    There's no need to frown.

    MRS. SOWERBERRY & SOWEBERRY
    In the end we'll either burn you up or nail you donw.
    We love coughs and wheezes
    And diseases called incurable.
    That's your funeral.
    No one else's funearl.

    SOWERBERRY
    That's your...

    MRS. SOWEBERRY
    That's your...

    BOTH
    Funeral!