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]