Part Of The Training That must be the smell they talk about, Death, It sits like a veil across a darkened room, A bible, A beacon of light, Death sits in the corner, Waiting with it's prize, To be whisked away, To a mortuary downstairs somewhere, Freezing, On a rainy day, Not wet, But enough to dampen, This man is not wearing trousers, We can change that, He's still here, Treat him as such, This is the last thing you can do for this patient, Why should you approach it any differently? Wrap in sheets, Make sure it's done neatly, Try and find an ironed one, You wouldn't want to meet your maker in creases, Or in pieces, Wrap tightly, Keep together, Tie the feet, Label appropriately, Call a porter, Shut all the doors, Bow your head and stay silent, How old was he? Eighty something, A good innings, But the Moses basket above him, That's sad, It's all sad, Poor chap, Bow your head, Wish him well.