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Morticians spend a lot of time embalming,
And taking special care of the deceased,
Providing, to survivors, words of calming;
A challenging career, to say the least.
The undertakers in the mortuary
Prepare the fathers, mothers, daughters, sons
For their excursion to the cemetery;
Morticians' lives, they are not happy ones.

Morticians handle coffins, ashes, hearses,
The lamentations of the just-bereaved;
And many are the misdirected curses
That poor besieged morticians have received.
So, as you dine in some exotic city,
Or grace the beaches under tropic suns,
One hopes you'll feel a modicum of pity:
Morticians' lives, they are not happy ones.