| I took my car in to get it fixed
|
| And i give the keys to some teethless hick
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| Who picks his nose and spits
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| I want him dead!
|
| And later on i go to shop for clothes
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| And the sales clerk strikes a snotty pose
|
| «Can i help you with those?»
|
| I want him dead!
|
| And every time i see that stuck up topless dancer
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| I only want her to grow old and die of cancer
|
| Cause i wanna set a bonfire in her hair
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| See her fry in the electric chair
|
| Cause thats how much i care
|
| I want her dead!
|
| And i ask myself well how can it be right
|
| To wish these awful deaths on people day and night
|
| But when i ask why thats the way that it must be
|
| I only tell myself 'well better them than me'
|
| Cause it’s not that i’m such an awful guy
|
| Don’t ask me cause i don’t know why
|
| But certain people must die
|
| I want 'em dead!
|
| Yeah, I wish they’d take a leap from a windowsill
|
| Or overdose on sleeping pills
|
| Curiosity kills
|
| I want 'em dead!
|
| Everyone who’s afraid to dance
|
| And everyone who wears panters' pants
|
| And the whole nation of France
|
| I want 'em dead!
|
| You better take a dive on a live grenade
|
| Or slit your throat with a razor blade
|
| I wish you’d all get aids
|
| I want 'em dead!
|
| Whoaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!
|
| They got a go
|
| They got a go
|
| They got a go
|
| I want 'em dead!
|
| And IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
|
| Don’t know why they got a die
|
| But i want them dead!
|
| De-de-de-dead
|
| Dead
|
| Dead
|
| Dead
|
| I want 'em dead
|
| DEAD! |