How do you like the taste of it?
The posion in your tea
I put it there with shaking hands
There's no way you'll be the end of meHow do you like the sound of it?
The weeping when you died
Your mother came with me at night
Then we closed your eyesHow do you like the feel of it?
The coffin made of oak
Dirt will be your new best friend
And the bugs will come and goHow do you like the sound of it?
The dirt as it hits the lid
Soon the light won't reach the wood
And the flowers will bloom againHow do you like the smell of it?
The decaying flesh of yours
Skin will rot, bones will crack
And you will be no more