Ever since he'd been a little boy, he'd always bent the rules
Deceivin' and connivin' had become the useful tools
He skillfully employed to get whatever he desired.
He scornfully would answer, when anyone inquired
About his ethics, or the methods he used to reach his goals,
That those who got ahead in life were not faint-hearted souls.
He lived by a different motto, and often he'd repeat
These words with great conviction, "It ain't fair if you cain't cheat."
It never seemed to bother him that others thought it wrong
The way he lived and acted, and who wouldn't go along
With his schemin', double-dealin' ways. He only seemed to care
'Bout winnin' at all costs as long as he could cheat you fair.
He lived his entire life that way. He never did repent.
When he died no one doubted the direction his soul went.
The mourners at his fun'ral only numbered just a few
And most of those who did come, just had nothin' else to do.
Goin' to the graveyard, his casket bounced out of the wagon
And broke up into pieces, which set all the tongues to hagglin'
'Cause there was nothin' in it, 'cept a note handwritten neat,
And the note had these words on it, "It just ain't fair if you cain't cheat!'