Some died in ecstasy, some died in poverty, But they all die with their boots on at the shouting end of life Roll me out a barrel, I'll toast you to your knees Take away this safety net, bring me my trapeze Order me a stretcher, for midnight if you please Give me sweet music and strife Anything could put me in that long black wooden box Gunpowder, whisky or the two-tone Chinese pox But I'm not going quietly, I do not feel the call I want to stay at the shouting end So honey, let's not go at all CHORUS I will not go As long as the room keeps swaying to and fro As long as the band can play Here is where I'm gonna stay I'm gonna stay at the shouting end The shouting end of life Tea-time with the vultures, drinking with the press Never trust a vulture that wants you to confess Me, whose only problem is an excess of excess They might as well hand you the knife Gunpowder, whisky, falling off the wire Anything could put me in that ever-after choir Hacks that want to see me shuffle off the shelf I hand them each a bottle, I say: Go fuck yourself CHORUS x2