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| Beck Miscellaneous 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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