He was holding the McCulloch When he knocked upon her door Yesterday she said she didn't love him anymore But it wasn't her who answered It was some guy he didn't know So he fired up that chainsaw and he laid that s**er low But when he saw the clipboard lying in the severed hand He realized that he just limbed from limbed the meter man Heard the sirens coming, and he sat down on the steps Shut off his McCulloch and he lit a cigarette The verdict, it was guilty and they said "you're gonna fry" He didn't see her in the back row, didn't hear her cry All that he could see was the terrified face of the meter man The moment that he sent him packing to the promised land They led him down the hallway, and the priest said him a prayer He wasn't none too happy, but he knew that fair was fair Still he'd like to thank the meter man, for coming to the door Otherwise his true love would be lying scattered on the floor And as for her, she never loved again, no not one time And though she broke his heart and led him to this ghastly crime She prayed each day they'd be together on the other side And she cried herself to sleep each night until the day she died