The burial was underway of Mrs Nelly Jones,
She was going in the family plot atop her husband's bones.
The funeral was all arranged by directors "Fitch and Fitch"
Who only performed funerals for the filthy rich.

Two funeral homes there were in town "Fitch and Fitch" and "Heap"
Fitch and Fitch paid by the rich, great profits they did reap.
Heap just catered for the poor, unconcerned with cash.
It sometimes turned to chaos, but he always had a bash.

John Heap was attending to a cadaver rather tall,
His boxes were all standard size, medium to small.
Removing both the head and feet was the best that he could do
And instead of using just one box interring him in two.

Today Fitch stood by Nelly's grave and did his best to cry,
Then he saw another funeral from the corner of his eye.
He saw the cardboard boxes that the mourners held aloft
And to cover up his laughter, Fitch politely coughed.

Several times the group passed by, the corpse weighed more and more.
The fourth time they were dragging both the boxes on the floor.
Fitch shouted "Take much longer and that corpse will start to rot,
It's obvious to me, John Heap, you've lost the fucking plot."