This little place I live in,
Is short of nothing that it's got.
You can do your daily business,
Hardly moving from the spot.

First there's the doctors surgery,
To go to when you're ill.
Just cross the road to the chemist,
With the prescription for your pill.

If after taking all the medicine,
You find you're getting worse,
Just pop down to the clinic,
And there you'll see the nurse.

If after all the treatment,
You find that you are dead,
Just pop to see John Francis,
You need the undertaker now instead.

Now to order a nice big wreath,
Next door to 'Pam the flower',
Mary and her staff will work like mad,
And have it ready in an hour.

While you wait - pop into Smiths',
There's a selection of sympathy cards.
Not bad your funeral's well under way,
And you've only moved ten yards.

Next stop must be 'Gracies',
Where you can buy your mourning clothes.
But hope it isn't Wednesday,
For at 1 o'clock they close.

Pork pies - it's Williams the bakers,
Sausage rolls and a nice big cake.
They'll even throw in some pickle,
And goodies for the wake.

Next but last, 'Cheers' off licence,
Where you can buy the wine and beer.
'Though get coffee for Aunty Mary,
'Cos alcohol makes her queer.

The Midland Bank the final stop,
And there you'll find the Will.
Sorry there's not a lot to leave,
Just enough to pay this bill.