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One sunny afternoon, on top of the silo

Just adjusting the wheat duct

When he slipped and fell in

Falling to his death, rather brutally

A rake handle aligned with his arse

Going to die very fast

High speed impaling at the rectum

Rushing through the tract

Guts shoved and torn up through the body

Gargling on bile and other fluid

As the wooden pole travels through his

Lungs, through his chest out his face

It's not pretty is it, a bloodied stick poking

Out his eye with some intestines hanging out off it

Falling to his death, rather brutally

A rake handle aligned with his arse

Going to die very fast