Mama gripped onto the milkman's hand
And then she finally gave birth
Years go by still I don't know
Who shall inherit this earth
And no one will know my name until it's on a stone (woo, whoa)

This could be your lucky day in hell
Never know who it might be at your doorbell
This could be your lucky day in hell in hell

Waking up with an ugly face
Winston Churchill in drag
Looking for a new maternal embrace
Another tired old gag
Am I just a walking bag of chewed up dust and bones (woo, whoa)

This could be your lucky day in hell
Never know who it might be at your doorbell
This could be your lucky day in hell in hell

Father Theresa you can't make me into you
I never want to be like you
Why can't you see it's me
You know it's time to let me go

This could be your lucky day in hell
Never know who it might be at your doorbell
This could be your lucky day in hell in hell in hell

This could be your lucky day in hell
Never know who it might be at your doorbell in hell
This could be your lucky day in hell in hell in hell in hell

Copyright: BMG Rights Management, Universal Music Publishing Group
Writer(s): Mark Everett, Mark Goldenberg