Slow Death

I called the doctor In the morning I had a fever It was a warning She said "There's nothing I can prescribe To keep your raunchy bag of bones alive" I got some money left for one more shot She said "God bless you" I said "Thanks a lot" It's a slow, slow death I called the preacher Holy, holy I begged forgiveness That's when he told me He said "There's nothing I can prescribe To keep your raunchy bag of bones alive" I got some money left for one more shot He said "God bless you" I said "Thanks a lot" Slow Death I'm set to mainline A hit of morphine It's set to mainline It's like a bad dream Slow death--eat my mind away Slow death--turn my guts to clay It's a slow, slow, slow death