Cold Dead Hand

Some folks ride like the wind
 With the whispering pines to guide them
 And the burning light inside them
 Keeps them warm in the snow
 Others fear the sounds they hear
 Make bandito's out of mole-hills
 Fill their hearts with porcupine quills
 They're dead and buried long before they go
 Charlton Heston movies are no longer in demand
 His immortal soul my lay forever in the sand
 The angels wouldn't take him up to heaven like he planned
 'Cause they couldn't pry that gun from his cold dead hand
 It takes a cold dead hand to decide to pull the trigger
 It takes a cold dead heart and as near as I can figure
 With your cold dead aim you're trying to prove your dick is bigger
 But we know your chariot may not be swinging low
 Cold dead hand - cold dead hand
 Cold dead hand - cold dead hand
 You're a big big man with an little bitty gland
 So you need something bigger just to fill
 Your cold dead hand
 Imagine if the lord were here
 And he knew what you've been thinkin'
 Would his sacred heart be sinkin'
 Into the canyon of dismay
 And on the ones who sell the guns
 He'd signal vultures and coyotes
 Only the devil's true devotees
 Could profiteer from pain and fear
 Charlton Heston movies are no longer in demand
 His immortal soul my lay forever in the sand
 The angels wouldn't take him up to heaven like he planned
 'Cause they couldn't pry that gun from his cold dead hand
 It takes a cold dead hand to decide to pull the trigger
 It takes a cold dead heart and as near as I can figure
 With your cold dead aim you're trying to prove your junk is bigger
 But we know your chariot may not be swinging low
 Cold dead hand - cold dead hand
 Cold dead hand - cold dead hand
 Cold dead hand - cold dead hand
 You're a big big man with an little bitty gland
 So you need something bigger with a hair-pin trigger
 You don't want to get caught with your trousers down
 When the psycho killer comes around
 So you make your home like a thunderdome
 And you're always packin' everywhere you roam
 But the psycho's win no matter what you do
 'Cause they're gonna buy way more guns than you
 And while you're stumbling out of bed
 They put five rounds in the back of your head
 Or you get depressed 'cause the money runs out
 Then you put your own shotgun in your mouth
 And your kids walk in and they find you there
 Like a headless stump in your underwear
 And they move the gun and it kills them too
 And your wife just doesn't know what to do
 But she takes a hand grenade from her shoe
 And she pulls the pin...
 And it's all on you
 And your cold dead hand