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You're Just...

de M.O.D.

Five across the eyes, sweat beads down my brow.
I got a feeling and its pretty bad.
I'll hide it just for now.
Polish up the chrome, polish up my bone.
Hanging out with six dumb, dumbs, in my funeral home.
Cross hairs, crossed paths.
You die, I laugh.
I leave, you bleed.
I'm firing you, cause you fired me.
I cash my final check, but you cash in your chips.
You look kind of funny begging and crying like a bitch.
You should have seen your face, when then the dummies hit.
You opened like a ripened, rotten bag of gutless shit. Cause I've just been fired.
You die... Just been fired.

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