In typically conciliatory mood, Morrissey calls for Jamie Oliver to be gassed. It's obviously the vegetarianism that brings on these murderous thoughts. If Morrissey had a nice burger now and then, he'd probably be a lot more chilled.
He also suggests that we will only appreciate him when he's dead, the big whinging overgrown teenager. Well, I hope he's around for a long time yet to remind us of his self-importance and what a great guitarist Johnny Marr is. But if he likes, when he dies, I propose we all put our handbags on his grave, and then dance around it. I'm sure it's the sort of thing he'd appreciate.