We couldn't afford to kill t' chicken,
So we boiled some water up hot,
And with bunches of dried peas tied to its knees,
It Paddled about on the top.

Me Grandad had mortgaged his pension
'Til 1994,
While me Gran in her vest, was outside doing her best,
With a red light above t'coal shed door.

'I can't stand't no more,' the old man cried,
A mad light shone in his glass eye,
'We'll have to defraud the insurance man
Hands up, I want a volunteer to die.'

Mam said she would have, but she were too busy,
Our Albert said his library book was due back,
Gran said she would but her and her mate,
Had got tickets for last Saturday's match.

So we drew straws to settle the matter,
But there was never no doubt,
'Cos me Dad cut me Grandad's in haIf wi't' bread-knife,
Just as he was pulling it out.
  I'm too old to die,' he said, using the cat
As a club to belabour me Dad,
'All right,' me Dad says, 'you don't have to die…
Just lie down and pretend as you are.'

So me Grandad lay down on the hearth-rug,
And we called the doctor in.
Gran took out a bottle and glasses,
And got him smashed on her dandelion gin.

He said me Grandad had died of a very rare disease,
A bad case of tropical frostbite,
Then he staggered off out and we all heard a shout
From the street 'cos he slipped in some dog shite.

Our Billy ran round for the Man from the Pru,
Gran filled him with dandelion gin,
He paid £4.10 in used chipshop yen
And said, 'When are you burying him?'

'Oh, We weren't thinking of burying him,' Grandma said,
'Thinking of having 'im stuffed meself,
Or embalming him in Plasticraft,
And keeping him on't mantelshelf.'
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