Poor Judd is dead, poor Judd Frye is dead, all gather round his coffin now and cry. He had a heart of gold, and he wasn't very old, oh why did such a fella have to die? Poor Judd is dead, poor Judd Frye is dead, he's looking oh so peaceful and serene. He's all laid out to rest, with his hands across his chest, his fingernails have never been so clean. Poor Judd is dead, poor Judd Frye is dead, his friends'll weep and wail for miles around, miles around. The daisies in the dell will give out a different smell, because poor Judd is underneath the ground. Poor Judd is dead, a candle lights his head, he's laying in a coffin made of wood. And folks are feeling sad, cause they used to treat him bad, and now they know their friend has gone for good. Poor Judd is dead, a candle lights his head, he's looking oh so pretty and so nice. He looks like he's asleep, it's a shame that he won't keep, but it's summer and we're running out of ice. Poor Judd, poor Judd.