We die and die rich
Bucolic Antony the Wise
Beckons me in
I see the spoils of his life
Lined up for him
The ferryman expects a prize
We die and die rich
Bucolic Antony the Wise
Beckons me in
I see the spoils of his life
Lined up for him
The ferryman expects a prize
I pass through the shells of empty tenement floors
The dead are always around and zealous in their cause
In a crumbling bar, a son and fathеr drink
I steal a pitcher of ale and hеar the barman sing
This is what life does for you in the end
It arranges a fight you can't win
This is what life does for you in the end
It arranges a fight that you can't win
We die and die rich
Bucolic Antony the Wise
Beckons me in
I see the spoils of his life
Lined up for him
The ferryman expects a prize
We die and die rich
Bucolic Antony the Wise
Beckons me in
I see the spoils of his life
Lined up for him
The ferryman expects a prize
Is it snowing?
Don't worry about it
Where's Antony?
I don't know
Lyrics provided by LRCLIB