Let Me Die A Youngman's Death

Let me die a youngman's death
not a clean and inbetween
the sheets holywater death
not a famous-last-words
peaceful out of breath death

When I'm 73
and in constant good tumour
may I be mown down at dawn
by a bright red sports car
on my way home
from an allnight party

Or when I'm 91
with silver hair
and sitting in a barber's chair
may rival gangsters
with hamfisted tommyguns burst in
and give me a short back and insides

Or when I'm 104
and banned from the Cavern
may my mistress
catching me in bed with her daughter
and fearing for her son
cut me up into little pieces
and throw away every piece but one

Let me die a youngman's death
not a free from sin tiptoe in
candle wax and waning death
not a curtains drawn by angels borne
'what a nice way to go' death

by Roger McGough

Other poems of MCGOUGH (16)

Comments (96)

Hello, everyone. I am trying to find a somewhat humorous poem about death that I heard a few years ago and just loved. As I recall, it was about how the best way to go is to be completely used up at the end of life, our bodies completely spent. Does anyone know this poem? I'd love to find it again. Thank you in advance.
ok dorky diusisfidsufgsdgfsiudgiugfiusdgfiusgidgfisdgfisdgfidsfgsiyfgdiufsdf
Short death poems
your evil bhewinooodkmejherfbndswdyefgewh2jueydgewbhw
Perfectly perfect, I loved it.
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