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letra de out on death row - jonathan something

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i was holding on a phone call from above
i guess the union dues i sent just weren’t enough
and now i’m waiting while they process what i owe
three hail marys, both my arms and a few toes

there are several kinds of endings to a life
there is death then there is death done up all nice
some get both and some get neither one at all
and you don’t get a say in how those pieces fall

at the restaurant where fruitless freaks lay rule
for eternity they cook me like their fool
and now i’m nibbling on their famous humble pie
until my sweet tooth gets its wits and says goodbye

i was living at this home called gentle breeze
once a year i’d get a visit from my niece
oh my lord or lord my savior pretty please
don’t i know it, she just wants my property

see the seasons play their tricks out on death row
while the women dance eternal a-go-go
all done up in black and singing you their curse
what a relief knowing it can’t get much worse

now the doctors they’re all sucking at my blood
hooked to morphine and a pinch of georgia mud
pulling vials from between their white coat seams
got a tonic to relieve my fever dreams
but their poultices are scr-w-ng with my head
i see fairies now when ere i near my bed
and blue demons and those ghastly beasts of yore
they coming howling at me thrice a day or more

oh their wickedness surrounds me like a fog
come on baby put me down like your sick dog
i’m your martyr, you’re my copper colored queen
i’ll bring sandwiches you bring your 43

see the seasons play their tricks out on death row
while the women dance eternal a-go-go
all done up in black and singing you their curse
what a relief knowing it can’t get much worse

i’m the only single honey here tonight
and my coin purse is filled with whippets and wet wipes
all the masters and the servants at the bar
eye my fast decaying body from afar

someone shouted hey your number’s being called
tuck your shirt in, stand up straight against that wall
number 47 sign here on this line
we got reading glasses if the print’s too fine

seems like i’m the foreign one this time around
the only english speaking senor in this town
all i ask for when they put me underground
is a magazine and something strong and brown
see the seasons play their tricks out on death row
while the women dance eternal a-go-go
all done up in black and singing you their curse
what a relief knowing it can’t get much worse

- jonathan something

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