| When you see a hearse go by
|
| You know you’re about the next to die
|
| They put you in a dirty white sheet
|
| And bury you under six feet deep
|
| Everything goes well about a week
|
| Until your coffin starts to leak
|
| Your teeth fall in your eyes fall out
|
| Ants play pinochle on your goul (sp?)
|
| Everything goes well so it may seem
|
| Until your eyes turn slimy green
|
| And pus comes out like whipping cream
|
| You slap it on a piece of bread
|
| That’s what you eat when you’re fuckin' dead
|
| Destined to rot
|
| Destined to rot
|
| Destined to rot
|
| When you see a hearse go by
|
| You know you’re about the next to die
|
| They put you in a dirty white sheet
|
| And bury you under six feet deep
|
| Everything goes well about a week
|
| Until your coffin starts to leak
|
| Your teeth fall in your eyes fall out
|
| Ants play pinochle on your goul
|
| Everything goes well so it may seem
|
| Until your eyes turn slimy green
|
| And pus comes out like whipping cream
|
| You slap it on a piece of bread
|
| That’s what you eat when you’re fuckin' dead |