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 sucker 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