Six Feet Under the Boardwalk

Bury me under the boardwalk,
Bury me at the shore,
What sounds await in a graveyard,
I’d rather death not be a bore.

I don’t believe in heaven or hell,
I don’t believe in hades, Vallhalla or sheol,
While these ideas comfort some,
In death awaits only a cold, dark hole.

Why be buried in a place of sadness,
Where widows, sons and daughters come to weep,
Why rest where you’d never go in life,
When you’d rather be at home to sleep.

And your home is where you make it,
Where your best memories are made,
For me home is the Jersey Shore,
In death that’s where I want to be laid.

Don’t think this verse morbid,
Don’t think my thoughts to be black,
I plan to live a long life,
I just know there’s no turning back.

And when my time comes,
I want to hear the crashing waves,
I want no part of the silence,
Others will get from their graves.

So bury me in Seaside,
Bury me down in Point,
Six feet under the boardwalk,
And roll yourself a joint.

For when I shuffle off my mortal coil,
There will be no reason to cry,
The sea will be my roommate,
My neighbor the starry sky.

And in the summer the beach will come to life,
And I’ll be the only one,
Sunbathing underground,
Still in on all the fun.