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One-fifty-one thousand, six hundred people die Every day on Earth and if that's not a reason to cry Well, it's an awful lot of paperwork It's your first day at work, how've you settled in? Shaken off the rigor mortis? Sorted out your pencil tin? Welcome to our newest resident skeleton What better Heaven than a desk to spend forever in? Now your body may be shrivelled up and worthless At least we know your funeral will be a civil service Persons so superfluous are living on the surface It's nothing so perturbing, we're just trimming off the surplus It isn't murder if you cause a little accident We prefer to word it as some mortal middle-management There's the door, we've got millions of applicants Dying for some corporate incorporeal entanglement Everything living has to die But to die, you need not apply We'll find you when your time's through Take a number, wait in line Live your life and we'll be right behind you Nothing's certain but death and taxes So, I guess you'd better get some practice Nothing's certain but death and taxes So, I guess you'd better- So, I guess you'd better-
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