Priests and fools say,
We are but animate clay.
We're crude vessels,
Housing immortal souls.
But the dead only quickly decay,
They dont go about being born and reborn,
And rising and falling like souffle,
The dead only quickly decay.
It would be swell,
To see some folk burn in hell.
But when they go,
Its just as pleseant to know.
That the dead only quickly decay
They dont go about being born and reborn,
And rising and falling like souffle,
The dead only quickly decay.