| | | | | (Sifflé) |  |  |  |  | |  |  |   |   | |  |  |  |  | |  |  |  |  | |  |  |  |  | |   |  |  |  | Dead love couldn't go no further Proud of, and disgusted by her Push, shove, a little bruised and battered Oh Lord, I ain't coming home with you   My life's a bit more colder Dead wife is what I told her Brass knife sinks into my shoulder Oh babe, don't know what I'm gonna do             | | | | I see my red head, messed bed, tear shed, queen bee, my squeeze The stage it smells, tells, hell's bells, miss-spells, knocks me on my knees It didn't hurt, flirt, blood squirt, stuffed shirt, hang me on a tree    After I count down three rounds, in hell I'll be in good company    |  |  |  |  | |   |  |  |  | Dead love couldn't go no further Proud of, and disgusted by her Push, shove, a little bruised and battered Oh Lord, I ain't coming home with you   My life's a bit more colder Dead wife is what I told her Brass knife sinks into my shoulder Oh babe, don't know what I'm gonna do             | | | | I see my red head, messed bed, tear shed, queen bee, my squeeze The stage it smells, tells, hell's bells, miss-spells, knocks me on my knees It didn't hurt, flirt, blood squirt, stuffed shirt, hang me on a tree    After I count down three rounds, in hell I'll be in good company    | | | | | In Hell, I'll be in good company              In Hell, I'll be in good company (Sifflé)        |  |  |  | |  |  |  |  | |  |  |   |   | |  |  |  |  | |  |  |  |  |