[Intro] Yo, clipboard at the gate, read the sign real slow Pet cemetery handbook, page one through four [Verse 1] I brought a little hamster in a shoebox made of pine The clerk said, “Fill this form out, every box has got a line” Rule twenty-seven: small pets count in a stack But what’s the conversion chart? Man, I need that fact How many hamsters equal one horse in the ground? Is it whiskers by the dozen, or you measure by the pound? They said, “One hundred only,” I said, “One hundred what?” One hundred bunnies hopping, or one hundred horses parked? A bunny’s barely lunch-sized, a horse is built like a wall You can’t use one ruler for the animals all [Chorus] Too many rules at the pet cemetery gate Read the fine print, then you gotta wait One hundred bunnies ain’t one hundred steeds Different size, different weight, different burial needs Too many rules, tell me who designed the chart? I got questions for the groundskeeper, right from the start [Verse 2] Can you bury horses vertical? That’s a serious debate The clerk just tapped the handbook: “Check appendix eight” It says, “All hooves must face the east by sunrise, no exception” Then, “No tail may cross a neighboring section” I said, “What if the horse is tall and the plot is narrow?” He said, “Submit a diagram, plus a notarized arrow” Now the hamster’s waiting while I’m sketching out a grave With a compass and a ruler that I borrowed from Dave There’s a rule about the flowers, one about the stone A rule for who can visit, a rule for leaving bones A rule for rainy weather, a rule for extra hay A rule that says the rules may change on any given day [Chorus] Too many rules at the pet cemetery gate Read the fine print, then you gotta wait One hundred bunnies ain’t one hundred steeds Different size, different weight, different burial needs Too many rules, tell me who designed the chart? I got questions for the groundskeeper, right from the start [Bridge] More rules? Yeah, there’s a rule for the rules A subcommittee meets beside the garden tools If your turtle wears a hat, that’s a separate fee If your goldfish has a name, bring two forms of ID [Verse 3] I asked for one clear answer, they handed me a tome “Can a pony share a plot?” They said, “Call the zoning home” “Can a rabbit stand for two?” They said, “Only if it’s twins” “Can a horse go vertical?” They said, “Depends on fins” Now nothing in that sentence makes a lick of sense But it’s printed in the handbook, so it must be evidence I picked up my hamster, said, “We’re leaving this place” He looked at the rulebook with a judgmental face We found a quiet garden with a simple little sign: “Bring love, dig a hole, and leave the forms behind” [Final Chorus] No more rules at the pet cemetery gate No conversion chart, no forms to translate One hundred bunnies, one horse, or a tiny mouse Give each one a little patch and let the love count out No more rules, let the groundskeeper rest Common sense and kindness pass the final test [Outro] But wait—what’s the rule for leaving? There are more rules?
