Where do bad folks go when they die? They don't go to heaven where the angels fly They go down to the lake of fire and fry Won't see 'em again till the fourth of July I knew a lady who came from Duluth She got bit by a dog with a rabid tooth She went to

Smoking in the dark cinema See the bad go down again And I was gripped by that deadly phantom I followed him through hard jungles As he stalked through the back lots Strangling through the night shades Oh, the thief of life Moved onwards and outwards to

All these small things they gather round me Gather round me Has the world gone mad Or is it me? Is it all so very bad? I can’t see Gather around me All in my mind I walked down Mayflower Road again