I called the doctor
Up in the morning
I had a fever
It was a warning
She said, "There's nothing I can prescribe
To keep your raunchie bag of bones alive"
I've got some money left for one more shot
She said, "Go kill yourself", I said, "Thanks a lot"
It's a slow, it's a slow
It's a slow, it's a slow death
I called the preacher
Oh, holy holy
I begged forgiveness
And then he told me
He said, "There's nothing I can prescribe
To keep your raunchy bag of bones alive"
I got some money left for one more shot
He said, "Go kill yourself", I said, "Thanks a lot"
I've got to mainline
A hit of morphine
It's set to mainline
It's like a bad dream
Slow death
Eat my mind away
Slow death
Turn my guts to clay
Slow death
Slow death
Slow death
Slow death, woo!
Lyrics provided by LRCLIB