@ transcribed by Alan Ezust and Jon Drukman and other members of the
@ cloud-zero mailing list.
Dead shot through the temple in the temple heard the preacher screech
I bored you full of holes, Lucretia, saw you crease up in a ball
As if you swallowed your own poison followed as you crawled up to the altar
I watched the tabernacle choir bawling in a bath of sacramental wine
You laced it, but it tastes just fine to me
Yes it’s 89’s a good year
Let’s hear it now for good old (bittersweet) ’89
Let’s hear it now for good old ’89.
We took our seats we watched them stringing up a chicken kept on kicking
As they kicked away the chair they fed it strychnine
We kept on staring sick and sordid as you pulled another bullet
From my belt and fired count to nine… (ninety nine)… count to nine.
I caught it in my teeth I licked it clean I chewed it
I chewed it struck a match
I flew a dozen stories to my stool behind a widow
Sure i’m small but big enough (I’m big enough)
To send a bullet through your head
A bullet through the center of your head
I’ll send a bullet through the center of your head
Center bullet… rent a bullet…