When callow adolescents mate
In dappled glades, the world says, "Great!"
When newlyweds secure a room,
We wink, and snigger, "Va va voom!"
The bump and grind of procreation
Calls forth hearty acclamation.
Alas, if only I could hear
Wild applause, a lusty cheer.
But fate has stamped a harsh decree,
For I'm in that minority
Of men who'd rather take to bed
A lady who's already dead.

Consider well this cross I bear:
I don't like babes who breathe the air.
You say she's warm, and very giving?
I like them cold, no longer living.
A fashion model, tall and proud?
Fine, if bundled in a shroud.
A tart who makes love well and often?
What's the address of her coffin?
Her scent is floral, fresh as May?
No thank you. I prefer decay.

You see the problems that I face?
My coming out would bring disgrace.
I've suffered long, but I'm no fool.
I'll go to mortuary school.
I'll study hard, get my degree,
An undertaker I shall be!
And then I'll have Suzanne or Mabel
Nude on my embalming table.
I'll offer her a loving tryst;
The odds are good she won't resist.
And thus, an endless stream of fillies,
Who might give someone else the willies,
Can warm my heart and spark my lust.
One final fling, before they're dust.