I'm Getting Martyred in the Morning

I'm getting martyred in the morning,
Cling clang the shrapnel's going to chime.
Free the fuse stopper; it'll be a whopper,
To get me to heaven on time.

I just must bust up in the morning—
Blown up; not much left but my spine.
Virgins'll kiss me;
All day they will bliss me.
As I am in their arms entwined!

Under my pants, a belt with C4. . .
Ball bearings whistling through kids of 4!

For I'm getting martyred in the morning,
Cling clang the shrapnel's going to chime.
It's going to thump, yes! I'll just have a stump left.
But get me to heaven on time.

Yes, I'm getting martyred in the morning.
Cling clang the shrapnel's going to chime.
They cannot jail me, once I've set those nails free.
So get me to heaven on time.

I just must bust up in the morning—
There won't be much left but my spine.
I'm wearing sable, to hide the bomb's cables
That get me to heaven on time.

All my parts flying all over town.
Not much but goo left here on the ground.

For I'm getting martyred in the morning,
Cling clang the shrapnel's going to chime.
Hole in the tar—me. I am not car-bomby.
So get me to heaven, get me to heaven
For my god's sake I prefer suicide.

I'll be feeling naught when I'm dead now—
Just a slight searing 'fore I die.
I'm done; I'm shaking; a drink I'm taking—
About that, I'll just have to lie.

I'm getting martyred in the morning
Cling clang the shrapnel's going to chime.

It's mindless "duty". . .how they recruit me.
To get me to heaven, get me to heaven,
To con me I'll get to heaven on time.