Morton Stone, Undertaker

Promotional postcard artwork by Ben Templesmith.

The Man From Thunderhead

Each stormy night the wind does wail,
The crow does scream,
the heavens too rail
In the moist, cold corridors
of the dead,
Dwells the Man from Thunderhead.

“My name is Stone,” the skeleton said
“Like my heart... cold and unforgiving.
“I had a life, a lifetime ago,
“Filled with loving warmth and feeling.”

But bliss suddenly turned to curse,
When black Mr. Noddy came a-callin’.
Nip nippy he went, until child and wife were all spent,
And to make matters worse,
Sow’s ear from silk purse,
Stone prefers now the dead to the

Wife and daughter do rot
in the old family plot
The Undertaker's pup as well is worth grievin'
All happiness has fled
For they are all dead
But Stone’s eyes with a purpose are gleanin’.

“I’ll cruise in my hearse of death’s jet black
“Down the highway to Hell, past the
Crossroads and back.
“Swinging my stock in trade,
the ol’ shovel and spade...
“Until Noddy is found and bloody
retribution is paid.”

“I wish I was dead.”
“I wish I was dead.”

whispered the
Man from Thunderhead.

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