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Where do bad folks go when they die? |
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They don't go to heaven where the angels fly |
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They go to a lake of fire and fry |
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Won't see 'em again till the 4th of July |
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Oh, I knew a lady who came from Duluth |
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Who got bit by a dog with a rabid tooth |
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She went to her grave, a little too soon |
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And flew laid down on the yellow moon |
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Where do bad folks go when they die? |
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They don't go to heaven where the angels fly |
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They go to a lake of fire and fry |
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Won't see 'em again till the 4th of July |
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Now people cry and people moan |
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Look for a dry place to call their home |
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Try find some place to rest their bones |
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Before the angels and the devils fight to make 'em their own |
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Where do bad folks go when they die? |
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They don't go to heaven where the angels fly |
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They go to a lake of fire and fry |
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Won't see 'em again till the 4th of July |
