Traces of cyanide in your cigarette
Gun full of bullets for your russian roulette
We all feel sorry for you now

Your luck is flying like a bat out of hell
You're empty handed at your life's show-and-tell
You have no idea what's coming down


A million voices call from the other side
If you could hear them you would be terrified

Good L_ck, Yo_'re
And we hate to see you go man, but everyone knows you're screwed
Good L_ck, Yo_'re
It's like a losing game of hangman and the letter we need is "U"


Piss in your coffee and there's nails in your bread
snakes in your toilet and a shark in your bed
We all feel sorry for you now


The grim reaper's grading your show-and-tell
That bat is taking your life back into hell
You have no idea what's coming down


Good L_ck, Yo_'re
And we hate to see you go man, but everyone knows you're screwed
Good L_ck, Yo_'re
And your life's about to blow man and everyone knows but you