22 October 2012
Go down to the churchyard
Give it half a chance
You may see the skeletons
Doing a little dance
They come up to the surface
Through a system of holes
But they don't dig 'em on their own
They share them with the moles
The dance is never done at day
It's only done at night
Because diurnal dancing
Would only cause a fright
They won't be piling out en masse
They wait 'til coast is clear
And when that's done, one by one
The skeletons will appear
The oldest is the rhythm king
He plays upon his ribs
Sounds just like a xylophone
His drumstick fibs and tibs
And then the dancing will begin
Among the old yew trees
Bony dancing partners
Rattling in the breeze
They dance and sway in silence
And tread their grassy boards
They'd sing the words as well but
They ain't got no vocal cords
But soon must come the daylight
And with it, dancing ends
With the moles, back to the holes
Our nocturnal bony friends
They'll let you sit and watch them
They don't care, you see
The skeletons know, in times full flow
They'll dance with you and me...
Churchyard • Opuss № I