Making Graves (Gabriel Grub)

He walks down Coffin Lane
And he makes the boys cry!
Grub
Grub
Gabriel Grub!
He proposes a toast
To those soon about to die
Grub
Grub
Gabriel Grub!
He makes a living by
Making Graves on Christmas Eve
Grub
Grub
Gabriel Grub!
A natural born sinner
Too unapologetic to believe...
Grub
Grub
Gabriel Grub!

Death is pretty
Very, very pretty
To Gabriel Grub
To Gabriel Grub
Graves are a living
Making Graves is a living
To Gabriel Grub
To Gabriel Grub

Another hole in the ground
Another coin in the pocket

Gabriel, Gabriel
Whatever will become of you?
Snarling at children
And mocking the dead
Your road to Hell
Is all that lies ahead

'Fuck your pretty posies
And your pretty words, too!
Making Graves is what I do!
What's more, it provides the means
For bottled company I keep
On the bitter nights
I plant you all to sleep!
All comes back to the grave!!
From your bodies
To your posies
To your loves
And your hates
All, my friend,
Come back to the grave!'

Death is pretty
Very, very pretty
To Gabriel Grub
To Gabriel Grub
Graves are a living
Making Graves is a living
To Gabriel Grub
To Gabriel Grub

'A stone at the head
A stone at the feet
A juicy meal for
Worms to eat!'

What man wonders among graveyards
On a night such as this?
Grub
Grub
Gabriel Grub!
While others make merry,
Who makes the graves?
Grub
Grub
Gabriel Grub!

...

(continued, later)

[This was inspired by the story by Charles Dickens from his Pickwick Papers)