Die Rich

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