Dead man's saw on the table there
Screwed down and buttoned to wear
Gathering mosses all along it's crusted blade
Acquired by another man to sit in his garage shade
Dust and grime lingering like opiate kisses
Turn it on for a test while it cuts into the misses
Damn thing works as good as a mule kicks
The blade is still warm ! better give it a few tongue licks
And off the old man goes as happy as a bee
Settling his stomach and the sea, with a cup of poisoned tea