Mr. Bones

Hello, my name's Mr. Bones, perhaps you've heard of me. I see you're all alone, I'd like to join you for tea. Congratulations! It seems you've been selected for our quick retirement plan. I've come round to collect you, I'm the rattlin' reaper man. I'm standing at your door, but perhaps you did not hear me ringing, So my timing's poor; sue me when we get to where we're going, Or challenge me to chess, to me it's all the same. What's one soul more or less if by some chance you win the game. I've got a nasty reputation for getting folks depressed, But it's my cosmic station to make your life a mess. But hey, if you've got a bone to pick, Well I've got a few to lend, But you'd better make it quick because your rope is at it's end. I'm not the one to impress if you're looking to be saved. Excuse a pun, but my job tends towards matters much more grave. And yes it bothers me to be all doom and gloom. I've been in therapy that's how I got my sense of humor, yeah ahh. See me on Halloween decked out in my top hat and my cane In New Orleans dancing to some Dixie jazz refrain. I do a little soft shoe, avoid (velien?) dance macabre, Right there on the avenue it's the best part of the job. Mmm, Mmm, I love this job.