Death comes for all But I plan to be out when he calls Out sunbathing in the snow But don't tell Death I told you so I refuse to die!
The reaper came to say I had to die I said "Sorry, Grim, some other time!" I said "Old Miss Bryce who lives next door Go ask her, she's 104!" I refuse to die!
I will not bow to the reaper's scythe I'll ride away on a Triumph motorbike I don't have time, see, I've got plans I've gotta build a house on the Morecambe Sands I refuse to die!
Well you can take your hourglass and your scythe And stick it in a place where the sun don't shine I won't go easy into the night I will not go without a fight I refuse to die!
Life may not be spiffy every day But it's a damn sight better than rotting clean away!
I'd rather chase scallops on the Blackpool sands I'd rather play Scrabble my thyroid glands I'll be in a deckchair by the sea I'd rather be at Lyon's drinking tea I'd rather be just about anywhere Than lying in a coffin in my underwear I refuse to die!
Compositor: Nicholas John Currie ECAD: Obra #2063617