For his shanks they were somewhat wide.
For a kerchief around his neck he tied
A winding sheet in a noose,
And he slipt his feet in the coffins of twins,
Which made him a pair of shoes.
From fifty coffins the cloth he tore,
(The owners were dead as mutton)
And a gay coat made—for on it he wore,
A death plate for every button.
As to what he had to cover his skull