Let me die a young man's death by Roger McGough
Let me die a young man'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
my 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 her son
cut me up into little pieces
and throw away every piece but one.
Let me die a young man'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.
--- Maximus 3.01
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