Half Man Half Biscuit - Dead Men Don't Need Season Tickets lyrics

Telephone call Telling me My old friend Graham had died I took a ride Down to where I Could be of a**istance I said to his wife Don't give in To grieving cliche and turn His side of the room Into a shrine It just doesn't work My arm round her shoulder Gently I told her Dead men don't need season tickets Now that he's gone You're gonna need A helping hand with the lawn Various chores Not least of all Those funeral arrangements If I were you I'd get myself Away from all that relates Week in the lakes Reasonable rates Early September Now I'm no hotelier Just thought I'd tell yer Dead men don't need season tickets Maybe I'm forward Maybe I'm morbid Dead men don't need season tickets Dead men don't need season tickets In a mortuary In the mortuary In the mortuary In the mortuary