Death Is Comin To Get Me (Fresh Meat And Old Slabs Version) Paroles

Let me ask for your grace and forgiveness
In the knowledge that I will serve you
All the days of my meaningless life.
Death is coming to get you,
It's mighty plain to see,
With a handful of cocaine,
And a long white limousine,
He's got rings on his fingers,
And his knives on his sleeve,
Sucking all the air out
'Til there's nothing left to breathe,
Well, he's looking in the phone book
For you number and your name,
And he's coming to your house
While you're watching a football game,
He's pulling up the driveway
With the windows rolled up tight,
And the eyes going blind,
And your hair is turning white,
When he's crawling up the stairs And brings you to your knees,
He's filling up the rooms
With jesters and disease,
He smashes the TV,
Decapitates your mom,
Raids the refrigerator,
Throws vermin on the lawn,
Plays frisbee with your records,
Pours blood on the walls,
Uses your telephone
To make long distance calls,
He's laughing at your diary,
He's puking on your suits,
He's dancing on your forehead
In your hiking boots,
He's climbing up the chimney,
He's falling through the roof,
He ties you up with snakes,
And takes your drugs and booze,
He's sending back
All of the bills that you paid,
Covers you with bacon,
And fills your mouth with Raid,
He's got everything you own
Out on the patio,
And he's giving it away
To people you don't know,
But you don't even care,
Your mind has been destroyed,
And this is the kind of stupid song
You write when you're unemployed.