Reanimate Me, Friend (A Plea From The Dead)

If you should find me rotting in the wood,
Beneath a moldy mound of brown decay,
My head a mushy ball of nothing good,
A'mingling with the earth on which I lay,
I pray that you would sew me up with string,
And stuff my corpse with meat to make me full,
Devise a voice machine to make me sing,
When on a tiny rope your children pull.
But if I should begin to fall apart,
Or stir some mental sickness in your wife,
I hope that you would hold me in your heart;
It's hard to keep a carcass in your life:
But know it's harder to forget the face,
You melted in your family fireplace.