The undertaker kept getting the wrong dead people

The undertaker kept getting the wrong dead people

The undertaker opened the door,
At seven on Monday night,
A coffin stood outside on its own,
But something was not quite right.

He pulled it in and checked the name,
Then scratched his puzzled head,
For Mrs Brown was booked that day,
But Mr Brown was dead.

He lifted up the coffin lid,
And nearly dropped his tea,
A little old man sat bolt upright,
And shouted, don’t bury me.

The undertaker slammed it shut,
Then opened it once again,
The old man shouted, let me out,
I’m catching the half past ten.

On Tuesday came another one,
With flowers around the side,
He opened it very carefully,
And found a blushing bride.

She wore a veil and wedding dress,
And held her flowers tight,
She said, I’m getting married today,
And everything must be right.

By Wednesday he was getting scared,
Another coffin came,
He checked the number 3 times through,
And slowly read the name.

He opened up and found a dog,
With slippers on its feet,
It wagged its tail and jumped straight out,
Then stole his sandwich treats

On Thursday morning two arrived,
He nearly shut the shop,
One held a vicar fast asleep,
The other held a cop.

The vicar woke and blessed the room,
The copper shouted, hey,
The undertaker grabbed his coat,
And quickly ran away.

But Friday brought the strangest one,
A coffin painted red,
A little note was stuck on top,
It simply said, you’re dead.

He opened it and stared inside,
Then nearly passed right out,
For there he was inside the box,
He gave a mighty shout.

He locked the doors and left that night,
And never went back again,
But coffins still arrive each week,
And nobody knows their names.