Down in the cellar

You're getting into making poison.

You slipped some on the side,

Into my glass of wine,

And I don't want any coffee--homeground.



Offer me a chocolate,

No thank you, spoil my diet, know your game!

But tell me just how come

They smell of bitter almonds?

It's a no-no to your coffee homeground.



Pictures of Crippin

Lipstick-smeared.

Torn wallpaper.

Have the walls got ears here?



Well, you won't get me with your Belladonna--in the coffee,

And you won't get me with your aresenic--in the pot of tea,

And you won't get me in a hole to rot--with your hemlock

On the rocks.



Where are the plumbers

Who went a-missing here on Monday?

There was a tall man

With his companion,

And I bet you gave them coffee--homeground.



Maybe you're lonely,

And only want a little company,

But keep your recipes

For the rats to eat,

And may they rest in peace with coffee homeground.



Well, you won't get me with your Belladonna--in the coffee,

And you won't get me with your aresenic--in the pot of tea,

And you won't put me in a six-foot plot--with your hemlock

On the rocks.



You won't get me with your Belladonna--in the coffee,

And you won't get me with your aresenic--in the pot of tea,

And you won't get me in a hole to rot--with your hemlock

On the rocks.



With your hemlock on the rocks.

"Noch ein Glas, mein Liebchen?"*

With your hemlock on the rocks.

"Es schmeckt wunderbahr!"*

With your hemlock on the rocks.

"Und [inaudible]"*