| Lyrics: | I'll see you at the weighing in,
When your life some total's made.
And you'll set your
wealth in Godly deeds
Against the sins you've laid.
So you place your final
burden
On your heart-rest next of kin,
Send the chamber pod back down the line
To be
filled up again.
Take your mind off your election
And try to get it
straight,
And don't pretend perfection;
You'll be cruising by too late.
And I
say, "Really should make a deal,"
As he offers round the hat.
Well, you'd better lick your
fingers clean.
And as you join the good ship Earth
And you mingle with the
dust,
Be sure to leave your underpants
With someone you can trust.
And the
hard-headed social worker,
Who bathes his hands in blood,
Will welcome you with [???]
high
And cover you with mud.
And he'll say, "Really should make a deal,"
As he
offers 'round the hat.
Well you better lick your fingers clean,
Well I'll thank you all
for that |
