I'll see you at the Weighing-In, when your life's sum-total's made.

Oy!



[Instrumental]



I'll see you at the Weighing-In, when your life's sum-total's made:

And you set your wealth in goodly deeds against the sins you've laid.

And you place your final burden on your hard-pressed next of kin:

Send the chamber-pot back down the line, to be filled up again!

Oh-oh-oh!

And the hard-headed miracle worker - who bathes his hands in blood,

Will welcome you to the final "nod" - and cover you with mud.

And he'll say "You really should make the deal,"

As he offers round the hat.

"Well, you'd better lick two fingers clean - he'll thank you all for that."

As you slip on the greasy platform, and you land upon your back -

You make a wish and you wipe your nose upon the railway track.

While the high-strung locomotive, with furnace burning bright,

Lumbers on - you wave goodbye - and the sparks fade into night.



And as you join the Good Ship Earth, and you mingle with the dust -

You'd better leave your underpants with someone you can trust.

And when the Old Man with the telescope cuts the final strand -

You'd better lick two fingers clean, before you shake his hand.



[Instrumental