Waoaooahhhhhhh
I was somewhere down the road but there's a ditch yeah there's a hole that marks the spot where you will lie when you are culled
And you can run and you can hide you can bitch and you can whine
But you'll never save your life
When you meet death
Be out of breath
And say your pleased to see him cause you're tired
Now you can go down with the wreck or you can scurry from the deck but there's no way to save your skinny little neck
And you can pray to who you'll please and you can fall down to your knees but your feet will still get wet
When you meet death
Be out of breath
And say your pleased to see him cause you're tired
Of wondering how much time you've got left
Of worrying that you're no good at chess
It's your funeral anyway choose your game
Then let's play
Waaaahhh
Yeah
When you meet death
Be out of breath
And say your pleased to see him
Infact you're waiting for this meeting
And frankly his time keeping leaves a lot to be desired
So tell that hooded huntsman that he's fired
Writer(s): Frank Turner
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