We’re Next Fascinating Aida

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Mother's gone, Father's gone
We think about them often
Uncle Fred is also dead
He's upstairs in his coffin
Aunty Jane has long since passed
Her sisters, too, have breathed their last
But now that lot have kicked the bucket
This random thought occurs: "Oh, fuck it!"

We're next
Next in line for the undertaker
Next in line to meet our Maker
It's all downhill from now on
It's us
Us who's due to run out of pep, it's
Us, our turn to become decrepit
That's if we happen to linger on

We will get old and smelly
We'll slump in front of the telly
Flabby of mind, flabby of belly
With that in mind, we will die

We're next
Soon to join our mater and pater
Slide us into the incinerator
It's all downhill from now on