Beck

Ahhhhhhhhhh!!
You only got one finger left
And it's pointing at the door
And you're taking for granted
What the Lord's made on the floor
So I'm picking up the pieces
And I'm putting them up for sale
Throw your meal ticket out the window
Put your skeletons in jail
'Cause Lord only knows it's getting late
Your senses are gone so don't you hesitate
To give yourself a call let your bottom dollars fall
Throwing your two bit cares down the drain
Invite me to the seven seas like some seasick man
You will do whatever you please and I'll do whatever I can