They snakes they can crawl. And the cheetahs they can bawl. And their ghosts can wait for the hereafter. But if you are so proud. As to say that's not allowed. We will get sick and choke ourselves with laughter. And the girlfriends that you knew. To whom you promised to be true. We'll have their sisters. Hanging from the rafters. And every dirty shade will rise rotting from the grave. Tomorrow will be just like the day after. And this bitter desert wind. Will come ripping through your skin. And everything that's calm will turn to madness. And all of your fake tears. Will come whirling down the years. And what was kind and warm will come to sadness. And the sun and the moon. Will come begging at your door. The stars will turn to rust. And drop from the skies. And everybody will soon be asking you for more. And everybody will be telling lies. And the girlfriends that you knew. To whom you promised to be true. We'll have their sisters. Hanging from the rafters. And every dirty shade will rise rotting from the grave. Tomorrow will be just like the day after.