Beck — Death Is Coming To Get You Fresh Meat & Old Slabs version

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 Knives on his sleeve He's sucking all the air up '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 Well he's crawling up the stairs With a can of mace And he's breaking all the windows With your neighbor's face He sets your clothes on fire 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 Playin' 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 He 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