Look at the coffin with golden handles
Isn't it grand boys, to be bloody well dead?
Let's not have a sniffle, let's have a bloody good cry.
And always remember the longer you live, the sooner you bloody well die.
Look at the mourners, bloody great hypocrites. Isn't it grand boys, to be bloody well dead?
Let's not have a sniffle, let's have a bloody good cry.
And always remember the longer you live, the sooner you bloody well die.
Look at the flowers, all bloody withered.
Isn't it grand boys, to be bloody well dead?
Let's not have a sniffle, let's have a bloody good cry.
And always remember the longer you live, the sooner you bloody well die.
Look at the preacher, bloody sanctimonious.
Isn't it grand boys, to be bloody well dead?
Let's not have a sniffle, let's have a bloody good cry.
And always remember the longer you live, the sooner you bloody well die.
Look at the widow, bloody great female.
Isn't it grand boys, to be bloody well dead?
Let's not have a sniffle, let's have a bloody good cry.
And always remember the longer you live, the sooner you bloody well die.
Writer(s): Traditional, Howard Blake
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