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 '89's a good year Let's hear it now for bittersweet Let's hear it now for good old '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 sickened sordid As you pulled another bullet From my belt and fired Count to nine
Count to 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 But 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
A bullet through the center of your head A bullet through the center of your head