Slow Death

I called the doctor 
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 left for one more shot 
She said "God bless you" I said "Thanks a lot" 

It's a slow, slow death 

I called the preacher 
Holy, holy 
I begged forgiveness 
That's when he told me 
He said "There's nothing I can prescribe 
To keep your raunchy bag of bones alive" 
I got some money left for one more shot 
He said "God bless you" I said "Thanks a lot" 

Slow Death 

I'm set to mainline 
A hit of morphine 
It's set to mainline 
It's like a bad dream 
Slow death--eat my mind away 
Slow death--turn my guts to clay 
It's a slow, slow, slow death