Bed - Loudon Wainwright III

Experiments and tests have shown

We sleep sounder when alone

If unentangled there we lie

Then it’s easier to kind of die

For though there’s pulse and shallow breath

Falling asleep’s a kind of death

And I suppose death has it’s charms

When it’s done in someone else arms

You bet someone the reason why

Is when you cum you kind of die

Who can say what you two did?

Made some whoopee or a kid

Bed’s much more than just one thing

It’s God and boat and boxing ring

It’s desert island, mountain top

It’s cradle, grave, and final stop

A bed of nails, a bed of coals

Pierce your skin, now see your souls

A bed of greens, the ocean bed

Go to sleep, go on, play dead

And we all a lullaby

A little prayer before we die

And when we die where do we go?

Is it up above or else down below?

It’s back and forth, or so it seems

If after-life is like our dreams

Some say this life’s a dream instead

I say real life begins in bed