Serial Killer Blues
Looked so like the Devil
Devil must have spat him out
Into a world drunk on the blood of saints
I said, he looked so like the Devil
Devil must have spat him out
Into a world drunk on the blood of saints
A gun in his hands
Rockin' on the porch
He don't need no light
'Cos God is his torch
Preacher gone fishin' with a hook and line
But the fish ain't bitin'
So the Devil don't mind
The Devil don't mind
Trailer-home cowboy
Skinny n' mean
Watchin' network news on his TV screen
Serial killer on a mission for the Lord
Rollin' down the highway
In a stolen Ford
In a stolen Ford
In a stolen Ford
There's room for one inside
So climb aboard
He'll take you further than you can afford
Rottin' green Chablis
Hangin' heavy on the vine
Now he's holed up in a motel
Waitin' for a sign
Aaarh, look out!
If God hadn't a' meant us to shoot
He wouldn't have given us trigger fingers
If God hadn't a' meant us to shoot
He wouldn't have given us trigger fingers
If God hadn't a' meant us to shoot
He wouldn't have given us trigger fingers
If the good Lord hadn't a' meant us to shoot
He wouldn't have given us trigger fingers
Now would He?!
