Death Is Comin' To Get Me

Death is comin' to get you, it's mighty plain to see

With a hand full of cocaine and a long white limosine

He's got rings on his fingers and knives all up his sleeves

Suckin' all the air up 'til there's nothin left to breathe



He don't care you're not ready he don't care if you're not dressed

You beg, he won't listen, you can't bribe him with blank checks

Cuz he's lookin in the phonebook for your number and your name

And he's comin to your house when you're watchin' a football game



Well he's pullin' up the driveway with the windows rolled up tight

And his eyes are goin' blind and his hair is turnin' white

He's crawlin' up the stairs with the can of mace

He's breakin' all the windows with your neighbor's face



He sets your clothes on fire and brings you to your knees

He fills up the room with fashion and disease...well

He bread(?) smashes the tv, decapitates your mom

Raids the refrigerator, throws vermin on the lawn



Throws frisbees with your records pours blood on the walls

Uses your telephone to make long-distance calls

He's laughin' at your diary, he's pukin' on your suits

He's dancin' on your forehead in your hikin' boots



He's crawlin' up the chimney, he's fallin' through the roof

He ties you up with vipers, takes all your drugs and booze

He's coverin' you with bacon and fills your mouth with raid

He's sendin' back all the bills that you've thought you paid



He's got eveything you own out on the patio

And he's givin' it away to people you don't even know

Well you don't even care, your mind has been destroyed

You're mutilated, molested and unemployed


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