or
Eels

Mama grapped onto the milkman's hand
And then she finally gave birth
Years go by still I don't know
Who shall inherit this earth
And no one will know my name until it's on a stone

This could be your lucky day in hell
Never know who it might be at your doorbell
This could be your lucky day in hell

Waking up with an ugly face
Winston Churchill in drag
Looking for a new maternal embrace
Another tired old gag
Am I just a walking bag of chewed up dust and bones

This could be your lucky day in hell
Never know who it might be at your doorbell
This could be your lucky day in hell

Father Theresa you can't make me into you
I never want to be like you
Why can't you see it's me
You know it's time to let me go

This could be your lucky day in hell
Never know who it might be at your doorbell
This could be your lucky day in hell

Written by EVERETT, MARK O. / GOLDENBERG, MARK
Published by Universal Music Publishing Group, WINDSWEPT HOLDINGS LLC

Lyrics Provided By LyricFind Inc.