Oh Vera my sweetI would offer you some meatIn exchange for a good loaf of waxI would smear it on youAnd on all your apples tooIf I thought it would help you relaxBut the bones in the groundWell they never make a soundAnd the bones in the ground are all fineAnd the bones in the airWell they haven't got a careAnd the bones in the air are all mineOh shiny MaureenWon't you tell me where you've beenAnd I'll work out where you should be nowIn a cluster of apesThat do rub themselves with grapesYou'll be tied to the back of a cowBut the bones in the groundWell they never make a soundAnd the bones in the ground are all fineAnd the bones in the windLord have mercy how they grinnedAnd the bones in the wind are all mineOh Paula-LorraineWon't you comment on my sprainAnd I'll shave you in some cozy churchI don't care what you're calledI just want to shave you baldAnd I'll know that I've finished my searchBut the bones in the groundWell they never make a soundAnd the bones in the ground are all fineAnd the bones in the airWell they sing a rattling airAnd the bones in the air are all mine