This is the story of Graverobber John,
His coat was as black as it was long,
His nails filthy and grimy and broken,
From graveyard adventures best left unspoken.
Silver and jewellery and gold from your teeth,
Treasures borne forth from the stench in the deep.
Putrified flesh, bones and bright bruising,
Darkness conceals his profession of choosing.
A hazardous trade to steal from the living,
The dead it would seem are more unforgiving.
Rain loosed his grip in the side of the mud,
John fell to the bottom with a groan and a thud.
Too dark to distinguish next day in the light,
His figure was hidden from all human sight.
Trapped in God's earth, six dirty feet under,
Now John is the quarry for robbers to plunder.
Friends with the dead, the worms and the soil,
Successfully shifted from this mortal coil...
