Slow Death

Slow Death 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 raunchy bag of bones alive I got some money Give me 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 Give me one more shot He said Go kill yourself I said Thanks a lot I got to mainline A hit of morphine Except the mainline Is like a bad dream Slow death Eat my mind away Slow death Turns my guts to clay Slow death, slow death, slow death, slow death