I heard the rattle in my throat
That distinctive sound
Of gargling with shotgun pellets
Aunt Mavis knew what it meant
She had heard it all before
Forty years in the chicken factory
Had taught her a thing or two

But I didn’t bother to pass
Best that I just ignore it
Pearly gates never did anything for me
That’s the trouble with Atheism
You are just stuck in the middle
Looking up or down
But nowhere really to go

The milkman once said to me
Son, always be prepared
For what lies on the other side
I wasn’t sure what he meant
So I crossed the busy road
Still holding the four leaf clover
I had stolen from the dead man's hand
And clutching the St Christopher
Aunt Mavis swore would keep me safe
Forty years in the chicken factory
Had taught her a thing or two

They was advertised at the store
Death rattles for sale
Buy one, get one free
Why would you ever want two?
When one would always be
Much more than sufficient
Still, better to be safe than sorry