Once upon a time, people were talking to graves and nobody batted an eyelid, right?

Would you rather live in peace as Mr. Nobody, die ripe, old and smellin' slightly of urine? Or go down for all times in a glaze of glory, smellin' near like posies, 'thout seein' your thirtieth?

Guess even pneumatic arms can't lift morale in a toxic workplace.

There once were two sisters, Night and Death,
Death large, and Night small,
Night had the beauty of dreams, while Death,
Death was most lovely of all -

Hey nonny nonny, hey nonny nonny!
Death was most lovely of all.

Didn't go through hell and back just to stand in front of a door.