listening to a mate on the wireless and he's been all dead and everything
Makes you think, dunnit. There he was, being interviewed, all alive and everything, with thoughts and ideas and beliefs and words and fears and hopes and all that. Next minute, dead, and NONE OF IT MATTERED.
It's a waste of time being alive and we all might as well be dead, that's my considered view.
"So we go inside and we gravely read the stones
All those people, all those lives
Where are they now?
With loves, and hates
And passions just like mine
They were born
And then they lived
And then they died
It seems so unfair
I want to cry"
That's right. You've turned into Morrissey.