[Gordon]
Pore Jud is daid,
Pore Jud Fry is daid,
All gether round his cawfin now and cry.
He had a heart of gold
And he wasn’t very old~
Oh, why did such a feller have to die?
Pore Jud is daid,
Pore Jud Fry is daid.
He’s lookin’, oh so peaceful and serene~
[Rod]
And serene!
[Gordon]
He’s all laid out to rest
With his hands acrost his chest.
His finger nails have never b’en so clean.