Dead Men Don't Need Season Tickets Lyrics
| Song | Dead Men Don't Need Season Tickets |
| Artist | Half Man Half Biscuit |
| Album | Voyage To The Bottom Of The Road |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| Telephone call | |
| Telling me | |
| My old friend Graham had died | |
| I took a ride | |
| Down to where I | |
| Could be of assistance | |
| 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 |
| Telephone call | |
| Telling me | |
| My old friend Graham had died | |
| I took a ride | |
| Down to where I | |
| Could be of assistance | |
| 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 |
| Telephone call | |
| Telling me | |
| My old friend Graham had died | |
| I took a ride | |
| Down to where I | |
| Could be of assistance | |
| 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 |
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