.... and no one can make me.
When my mother died the whole street turned out to watch the funeral cortège pull away.
The workmen at the roadworks turned off the machines, took off their hard hats & bowed their heads.
The funeral director was a mate from school and the vicar drank in our local.
How many of us will depart this world, these days, in that way?
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When my mother died the whole street turned out to watch the funeral cortège pull away.
The workmen at the roadworks turned off the machines, took off their hard hats & bowed their heads.
The funeral director was a mate from school and the vicar drank in our local.
How many of us will depart this world, these days, in that way?
