They say I’m rich on paper but my pocket change is
light.
My teeth are sharp as razor but my words have lost
their bite.
Have you seen my woman? Oh say, “How was she dressed?”
“She’s all decked out this mornin’ in her Sunday best”.
Her lips were painted crimson. Her dress was crimson
too.
I swear it had a little hole where tell came pokin’
through.
Chorus:
But you won’t see her weeping. My woman dressed in red.
If she tells you that I’m sleepin’, you know I’m good
as dead.
My pass is in abundance. My future’s in decline.
Can’t count the days I’ve wasted try’na please that
Caroline.
She keeps me on short tether and feeds me from a tin.
Her heart is made of leather and my soul’s tied up
within.
Chorus:
Calling all my demons. Come gather ‘round my bed.
If I look as though I’m dreamin’, you know I’m good as
dead.
I’m lying on a pillow stitched with golden thread.
Lying very still though…‘cause I’m as good as dead.
As my ghost has faded, I do have one regret.
Spend your whole life waiting and older’s all you get.
Chorus:
Calling all my demons. Come gather ‘round my bed.
If I look as though I’m dreamin’, you know I’m good as
dead.
I’m lying on a pillow stitched with golden thread.
Lying very still ya know…‘cause I’m as good as dead.
Calling all my demons. Come gather ‘round my bed.
In spite of all my schemin’, I’m as good as dead.
Still good as dead.
Oh yes, I am.
Dead.
