Look at the coffin, with its 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 allways remember the longer you live
The sooner you'll bloody well die
Look at the flowers, all bloody withered...
Look at the mourners, bloody great hypocrites...
Look at the preacher, bloody sanctimonious...
And allways remember the longer you live
The sooner you'll bloody
The sooner you'll bloody
The sooner you'll bloody
The sooner you'll bloody well die