What do you call it,
When another forces your hand and,
What will they say,
When they find me here this way?

And know, no, no, no, that it wasn't my idea,
No, it wasn't my idea.
But oh, just to see your face,
When you find me here like this.

Now there's no time for wondering,
Darkness is now at my door.
Rapping with his bony fingers, [bad word] to take me home.
He'll envelope me in sleep,
Wrapped in black feathery wings.
But before we fly, here's my goodbye:

I get the last word,
I get the last laugh,
As sure as the room is growing cold.
I'll have the last word,
I'll have the last laugh,
As sure as my blood [bad word] cold.

They won't call it suicide,
'cause I've got the killer's name,
Engraved so deeply in my veins.
They will call it homocide,
'cause I've got your name,
So clearly carved into my wrist.

The weak and the lame
Will find their way to escape.
But why should I
Leave all this beauty behind
And forfeit the joy in my life
In the name of an enemy?

I'll have the last word,
I'll have the last laugh,
As sure as the room is growing cold.
I'll have the last word,
I'll have the last laugh,
As sure as your blood [bad word] cold.

Far be it for I
To leave all this beauty behind.
I will stay to watch you wither away.
And with any luck
You may be hit by a [bad word] 
And I will remain to dance upon your grave.
Oh, look, can't you see
How much your death means to me,
Please won't you play in a busy street.
Far be it for I
To leave all this beauty behind,
I will remain to dance upon your grave.