JIM CARREY (AS EARL): Some folks ride like the wind
when the whisping pines do guide them,
and the burning light inside them
leaves them warm in the snow.
Others fear the sounds they hear,
make banditos out of mole hills,
fill their hearts with porcupine quills;
they’re dead and buried long before they go.
Charlton Heston movies are no longer in demand,
and his immortal soul may lay forever in the sand.
The angels wouldn’t take him up to heaven like he planned
’cause they couldn’t pry that gun from his cold dead hand.
JIM CARREY (AS HESTON): What did he say.
JIM CARREY (AS EARL): It takes a cold dead hand to decide to pull the trigger.
takes a cold dead heart, and as near as I can figure
with your cold dead aim you’re trying to prove your dick is bigger,
but we know: your chariot may not be swingin’ low.
Cold dead hand, cold dead hand
Cold dead hand, cold dead hand
You’re a big dick man with a little bitty gland
so you need something bigger just to fill your cold dead hand
JIM CARREY (AS HESTON): They’re making fun of everything I hold dear
JIM CARREY (AS EARL): Imagine if the Lord were here
and he knew what you’ve been thinkin’
would his sacred heart be sinkin’
into the canyon of dismay?
And on the ones who sell the guns
he’d stick the vultures and coyotes.
Only the devil’s true devotees
could profiteer from pain and fear.
Charlton Heston movies are no longer in demand,
and his immortal soul may lay forever in the sand.
The angels wouldn’t take him up to heaven like he planned
’cause they couldn’t pry that gun from his cold dead hand.
It takes a cold dead hand to decide to pull the trigger.
takes a cold dead heart, and as near as I can figure
with your cold dead aim you’re trying to prove your dick is bigger,
but we know: your chariot may not be swingin’ low.
JIM CARREY (AS ELLIOT): Hi, I’m Clearly Sam Elliot. Pay attention now braves, this boy’s got something to say, budding social satire; you couldn’t stand smooth. Enjoy the show. I’m a watch that sunset.
JIM CARREY (AS EARL): Cold dead hand, cold dead hand
Cold dead hand, cold dead hand
You’re a big dick man with a little bitty gland
so you need something bigger with a hairpin trigger.
You don’t wanna get caught with your trousers down
when a psycho killer comes around
So you make your home like a thunderdome
and you’re always packing everywhere you roam
but the psychos will no matter what you do
they’re gonna buy way more guns than you
And while you’re stumblin’ now to bed
They put five rounds in the back of your hair
and you get depressed [inaudible at ~5:00]
and you put your own shotgun in your mouth
And your kids walk in and they find you there
Like a headless lump in your underwear
And they move the gun and it kills them too
And your wife just doesn’t know what to do
So she takes a hand grenade from her shoe
And she pulls the pin
And it’s all on you, and your cold dead hand
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