Down the stairs

He found an old fat woman
Waiting down his stairs
She moved a broken white fan
That could blow no air

Since he looked so very tired
She gave him a wheelchair
It was made of matchsticks burnt
And could his weight not bear

“ What an awful choice to make
Take that seat or go to bed
My body’s all so weary
I’m not too sure I could
Climb these stairs”

And gathering all drunken strength
He made his way up there
But trippled down on the first step
And broke his neck par terre

“What a wrong choice you did make
You should have taken my chair
Your body’s all so bloody now and you’ll
Never climb up anywhere …”

Then she stood and walked with care
Pulled the body by the hair
Put that dead meat on the chair
And she vanished, leaving him there.

© Lyrics by Katzenjammer Kabarett