letra de coffin confessions - arthur brown
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come out of the toilet
with your hands up
and put down that bag of crisps
or it’s curtains for you
i loved you once
but i just can’t stand your politics
take me to your boudoir
your scented breath
has guaranteed my return
here, from my coffin
as i open the lid
seeing the surprised faces of all my relatives
and their disappointment
that i shall still live to spend all of my money
and, my grandchildren
shall inherit before my children
who i have disowned, one and all
they say
that this is merely alzheimer’s, the crankiness of age
but little do thеy know
it’s a very calmly-planned, vindictive rеvenge
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