 Only gas chamber, cause one's got a weasel and other's got a flag. One's on the pole, shove the other in the bag. With the rerun shows and the cocaine nose jug. The daytime crap of the folk singer slug. He hung himself with a guitar string. A slab of turkey neck and it's hanging from a pigeon wing. Gotta get right if you can't relate. Trade the cash for the beef, for the body, for the hate. And my time is a piece of wax falling on a termite. It's choking on the splinters, so