Beck: Death is comin to get me

Eternal nothingness, I offer myself, so you can cast Your inscrutable dear silence upon me. Oh lustrous home, symbol of the greater glory Of absence, darkness and mystery, Beyond the realm of human thought. Let me ask for your grace and forgiveness In the knowledge that I will serve you All the days of my meaningless life. Death is coming to get you, It's mighty plain to see, With a handful of cocaine, And a long white limousine, He's got rings on his fingers, And his knives on his sleeve, Sucking all the air out 'Til there's nothing left to breathe, Well, he's looking in the phone book For you number and your name, And he's coming to your house While you're watching a football game, He's pulling up the driveway With the windows rolled up tight, And the eyes going blind, And your hair is turning white, When he's crawling up the stairs With a can of mace, And he's breaking all the windows With your neighbor's face, He sets your clothes on fire And brings you to your knees, He's filling up the rooms With jesters and disease, He smashes the TV, Decapitates your mom, Raids the refrigerator, Throws vermin on the lawn, Plays frisbee with your records, Pours blood on the walls, Uses your telephone To make long distance calls, He's laughing at your diary, He's puking on your suits, He's dancing on your forehead In your hiking boots, He's climbing up the chimney, He's falling through the roof, He ties you up with snakes, And takes your drugs and booze, He's sending back All of the bills that you paid, Covers you with bacon, And fills your mouth with Raid, He's got everything you own Out on the patio, And he's giving it away To people you don't know, But you don't even care, Your mind has been destroyed, And this is the kind of stupid song You write when you're unemployed.