We? ve got to lubricate the death machine
Clean it out with turpentine
Pass me the bottle I? ll be allright
I? ve got to grease my brain tonight
It? s gonna rattle it? s gonna hum
Till I don? t know where I? m from
We? ve got lubricate the death machine
It won? t be pretty that? s a fact
My girlfriend? s got her things all packed
She can? t stand me when I? m drunk
So leave the keys and take your junk
I ain? t no saint I? ve never been
I? ve got to lubricate the death machine
Just one more drink before I go
Yes I? ll have the usual
Cause when I? m three sheets to the wind
Don? t care if drinking is a sin
You? re the prettiest girl I? ve ever seen
But I? ve got to lubricate the death machine
I? ve found god in a thousand bars
I? m spitting up blood and seeing stars
Sure I might seem a little unsteady
But if you? ve got cash I? m always ready
My mouth? s covered in vaseline
I? ve got to lubricate the death machine
Writer(s): Bob Schneider
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