72nd Street

It was a subway in July When my mother-in-law exploded The proper authorities were called in An investigation was made of rutabagas (Wax turnips were strictly excluded) My husband couldn't sit shiva because his bowling shoe wouldn't come off The rabbi was incensed Incense was ordered in great quantities A funeral Mass was performed in the Episcopal Cathedral (The Catholics turned us down, most understandably -- A matter of doctrine, you know...) We couldn't have had a Jewish burial anyway You have to gather all the pieces And some of them went to Canarsie with the train That took our Dear Old Mum away forever It must have been something she ate She never was a very good cook