She kept her socks in the bookcase
And her wine in the loft.
Every night she slept in the closet,
And kept her t.v. on the john,
When she had to go and potty,
She went out and sprayed the lawn.
Her clothes were folded neatly;
They were then placed on the stairs.
She walked up to get her nightgown,
Back down for her underwear.
She hung her pictures on the ceiling
And her fans were on the walls.
Her telephone was in the Frigidaire
So she could make cold calls.
She put her doorbell on the inside
And her carpet in the yard.
She put her cellar in the attic,
Which was really rather hard.
She parked her car in the kitchen,
Her remote control was in the sink.
Her daughter Clara Belle wore blue;
Her son Rufus P. wore pink.
She put Pepsi in her cereal
And ate her soup with a sock.
Her watch was on her nightstand
And on her wrist was a clock.
When she died she was buried
In a cemetery grave,
But climbed out to lay on topAnd give all passerby's a wave.
