John Wesley Harding - Build Me A Coffin

When there's not enough rigor but there's too much rigor mortis
You've got to ration love because you know that there's a shortage
She'll take you with a pinch of salt
And she'll give you no quarter
She's the queen of the short order
And you're a one-armed bandit
Gambling on a crash
Wearing a pair of silly glasses and a baby's wax moustache

In disguise
Like a schoolboy playing superspy
I'm gonna build me a coffin and get right in
Sometimes it's too much to see what's happening around me I'm gonna build me a coffin and get right in
Sometimes it's too much to see what's happening around me
What's happening around me

Given the fact that you're losing, someone has already won
If you're finding life a bastard, someone somewhere's having fun
You're hooked and lined and sinkered but she'll
Throw you right back in again
A game of pool would do your head in
You know that Hell just isn't some kinda bottomless pit
It's a chair in a long white corridor and you're sitting in it
With clenched fists
The lifestyles of the rich and hopeless