He was holding the McCulloch

When he knocked upon her door

Yesterday she said she didnt love him anymore

But it wasnt her who answered

It was some guy he didnt know

So he fired up that chainsaw

and he laid that sucker low

But when he saw the clipboard lying

in the severed hand

He realized that he just limbed from limbed

the meter man

Heard the sirens coming, and he sat

down on the steps

Shut off his McCulloch and he lit a cigarette

The verdict, it was guilty and they said

"youre gonna fry"

He didnt see her in the back row,

didnt hear her cry

All that he could see was the terrified

face of the meter man

The moment that he sent him packing to the

promised land

They led him down the hallway,

and the priest said him a prayer

He wasnt none too happy,

but he knew that fair was fair

Still hed like to thank the meter man,

for coming to the door

Otherwise his true love would be

lying scattered on the floor

And as for her, she never loved again,

no not one time

And though she broke his heart

and led him to this ghastly crime

She prayed each day theyd be

together on the other side

And she cried herself to sleep each night until the

day she died