Jim Carrey - Cold Dead Hand

Some folks ride like the wind
With the whispering pines
to guide them
And the burning light inside them
Keeps them warm in the snow

Others fear the sounds they hear
Make bandito's out of mole-hills
Fill their hearts with porcupine quills
They’re dead and buried
long before they go

Charlton Heston movies
are no longer in demand
His immortal soul my
lay forever in the sand
The angels wouldn’t take him
up to heaven like he planned
‘Cause they couldn’t pry that gun
from his cold dead hand

It takes a cold dead hand
to decide to pull the trigger
It takes a cold dead heart
and as near as I can figure
With your cold dead aim you’re
trying to prove your dick is bigger
But we know your chariot
may not be swinging low

Cold dead hand - cold dead hand
Cold dead hand - cold dead hand
You’re a big big man
with an little bitty gland
So you need something bigger
just to fill your cold dead hand

Imagine if the lord were here
And he knew what you’ve been thinkin’
Would his sacred heart be sinkin’
Into the canyon of dismay

And on the ones who sell the guns
He’d sick the vultures and coyotes
Only the devil’s true devotees
Could profiteer from pain and fear

Charlton Heston movies
are no longer in demand
His immortal soul my
lay forever in the sand
The angels wouldn’t take him
up to heaven like he planned
‘Cause they couldn’t pry that gun
from his cold dead hand

It takes a cold dead hand
to decide to pull the trigger
It takes a cold dead heart
and as near as I can figure
With your cold dead aim you’re
trying to prove your junk is bigger
But we know your chariot
may not be swinging low

Cold dead hand - cold dead hand
Cold dead hand - cold dead hand
Cold dead hand - cold dead hand
You’re a big big man
with an little bitty gland
So you need something bigger
with a hair-pin trigger
You don’t want to get caught
with your trousers down
When the psycho killer
comes around
So you make your home
like a thunderdome
And you’re always packin’
everywhere you roam
But the psycho’s win
no matter what you do
‘Cause they’re gonna buy
way more guns than you

And while you’re stumbling out of bed
They put five rounds in the back of your head
Or you get depressed ‘cause the money runs out
Then you put your own shotgun in your mouth
And your kids walk in and they find you there
Like a headless stump in your underwear
And they move the gun and it kills them too
And your wife just doesn’t know what to do
But she takes a hand grenade from her shoe
And she pulls the pin...

And it’s all on you
And your cold dead hand