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