I'm dead, got nothing to lose The biggest fucker around's gonna give himself The blues trying to make trouble for a dead man What's that, you're mistaken The spot you wanted most has already been taken And it's been taken by your own self No reason for a hasty retreat You're dead just a little bit too Perhaps you've forgotten all the things you can't do Like letting your belly get swollen From lack of food And every broken rock or bone Or blue-green god tree or the smell of damp Or the touch of you reminds me Of the you we once knew