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Behind the Grindstone: Coffin


By Bill Bunting

October 11, 2023

Bob and Sally were on vacation
The road wound around and down
And there at the bottom
Was a quaint little mountain town

Sally wanted to look around
And see the sights to see
Bob was wantin’ to stretch his legs
So he said he’d agree

But soon they tired of walkin’
And thought they’d rest a bit
On a bench in front of the drugstore
They pulled up and had a sit

Now as they were there a sittin’
A funeral procession came slowly by
Led by an old horse drawn hearse
Brought a tear to Sally’s eye

As the old hearse headed up the hill
With eight or ten riders taggin’ along
Sally started hummin’ amazin’ grace
Along with some other song

But things grow old and things wear out
And so it was with the hearse
One back wheel wobbled some
The other wobbled worse

And it decided to wobble off
At the steepest part of the road
And as things started falling apart
The old hearse lost it’s load

And that coffin was spilt out
On that cart with those little wheels
One cowboy tried to head it
Another went for the heals

But the coffin soon out run them
As it gained speed down the hill
Bob thought whoever was in it
Was getting’ quite a thrill

It was breakin’ the speed limit
And demandin’ the right of way
It seemed to be on a mission
I reckon you might say

But it was runnin’ out of ground
Cause there was a curb up ahead
And there was no stoppin’
This runaway sled

When that cart hit the curb
And crumpled in a pile
It seemed as if everything froze
And time stopped for a while

Then that coffin became airborne
Right through the plate glass window of the store
And wrecked total havoc
As it slid across the floor

As it bumped into the counter
The lid sprung open wide
The old cowboy sat bolt upright
That had been layin’ there inside

And said to the druggist, “Can you sell me somethin’ that will stop this coffin?”

At least, that’s the view here from behind the grindstone.

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