The Guy Down the Street

I'm the guy who lives in the house down the street

that you never see no one go into.

The place with the iron fence all around,

and the yard which no one attends to.

Broken steps, peelec paint,

Taste that will surely offend you.

Kids come, they peek and run.

A better hope that I never get a hold of you.

No one comes on Halloween.

No lights or tree on Christmas Eve.

Everyone is scared of me.

I must be inside breading spiders,

Shooting dope into my eyelids.

Raise my kid in a closet.

Raise my kid in a closet.

Raise my kid in a closet.

Hoping that a girl scout's selling cookies.

Hops up on my doorstep

I'm the guy they say has the wife

that no one's seen in 30 years.

I'm blamed for all the poison dogs

And disappearances.

I'm the one that the screaming lunatics

In the nearby madhouse fear.

They say all I eat is the blood and meat

Of poor folks that get near.

Jehovah's Witnesses, census takers,

Pass my door.

Don't know who's president.

Don't care if there's a war.

There's a paper on the porch

That's dated 1954.

I must be digging in the basement

Or in my lab in some foul experiment.

Human skin on lampshades.

Must be human skin on lampshades.

Human skin on lampshades.

Hoping that a yummy little girl scout selling cookies.

Hops up on my doorway.

Oh oh - time to feed the cats now.

Oh oh - time to feed the bats now.

Oh oh - time to feed the gnats now.

Oh oh - time to feed the rats now.

Oh oh - time to cook the brat now.

Oh oh - time to get the rack out.

Oh oh - time to have a blackout.

Ohhhhh

 

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