Here comes the soul collecting train of murder a-comin'
It longs to take your putrid blackened soul away from you
Your face will leave your rotting head in the early morning
Your guts will leave your corpse, your spine will break and crack in two
It cannot be stopped
The train is fueled by chopped
Bodies filled with sorrow
There is no tomorrow
Ticket is your life
Ended by a knife
Called the murder train
Eternity of pain
Oh yeah, you know what I'm talking about
There is no escape but death
Your life is just
A murder train a-comin'
Alright, ready Skwisgaar?
Yeah
Now play me some blues
Here goes nothings
I've never been so depressed as I am right nows
I's really ams playings the blues
How about a little bit of this?
Oh yeah
You knows it
Mashed
Listens to the feel behinds this
Yeah
OK, hold on for one. Hold on for one second
Hey, look, it's Mashed Potato Johnson (hey Mashed Potato Johnson)
Hi boys. I thought you might have forgotten
About good ole Mashed Potato Johnson (dude, no way)
I was listening to your playing Skwisgaar (yeah?)
And I think you've might, you might've forgotten
A couple lessons about the blues
So, who cares?
Now listen to this
Haah-yeah-yeah, boo-boo di-di (ah grands pa's guitar)
Yeaheah boo-boo, he-he (ah ah, grands pa's guitar)
I've seen hate
I got blues
And I'm Mashed Potato Johnson, oh yeah
Alright boys, you know what you do
I'm gonna let myself out of here
Dethklok rules
Here comes the soul collecting train of murder a-comin'
It longs to take your putrid blackened soul away from you
Your face will leave your rotting head in the early morning
Your guts will leave your corpse, your spine will break and crack in two
It cannot be stopped
The train is fueled by chopped
Bodies filled with sorrow
There is no tomorrow
Ticket is your life
Ended by a knife
Called the murder train
Eternity of pain
Hey, was that Mashed Potato Johnson back there?
Yeah, it was
I should've said hi
Yeah
There is no escape but death
Your life is just
A murder train a comin'
This is the most depressing thing I ever heard in my entire life
Good work, boys
Aqui vai o trem coletor de almas dos assassinos a caminho.
Isto demora para tomar sua podre e enegressida alma de você.
Seu rosto vai deixar sua putrefata cabeça na primeira manhã.
Suas bolas vão deixar seu corpo sua espinha vai quebrar e rachar em duas.
Isto não pode ser parado, o trem é movido por retalhados.
Corpos cheios de lamento, não há amanhã.
Passagem é sua vida acabada pela faca.
Chamando o trem assassino, eternidade de dor.
Oh, yeah, você sabe do que eu estou falando.
Não escapatoria alem da morte.
Porque a vida é só um trem assassino a caminho.
Agora toque aquele blues.
