Out of Breath

One, two, three, four

Oh, somewhere down the road, there's a ditch where there's a hole

Which marks the spot where you will lie when you are cold

And you can run, you can hide, you can bitch and you can whine

But you will never save your life

When you meet death

Be out of breath

And say you're pleased to see him 'cos you're tired

Now you can go down with the wreck or you can scurry from the deck

But there's no way to save your skinny little neck

And you can pray to who you please, and you can fall down on your knees

But your feet will still get wet

When you meet death

Be out of breath

And say you're pleased to see him 'cos you're tired

Of wondering how much time you've got left

Of worrying that you're no good at chess

It's your funeral anyway

Choose your game

Then let's play

When you meet death

Be out of breath

And say you're pleased to see him

In fact you're waiting for this meeting

And quite frankly his timekeeping leaves a lot to be desired

So tell that bastard that he's fired