As the calendar ticks towards the end of the year, it always seems like the Grim Reaper starts working overtime.
A true sentiment - but why do so many of them keep leaving us?
Farewell then to Jimmy Cliff - I hope you find there are still Many Rivers Left To Cross.
Well, they tell me of a pie up in the sky
Waiting for me when I die
But between the day you're born and when you die
They never seem to hear even your cry
So as sure as the sun will shine
I'm gonna get my share now, what's mine
And then the harder they come
The harder they fall, one and all
Ooh, the harder they come
The harder they fall, one and all
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