And life in the D is what was handed to me and that’s what I’ve got
The answer’s encoded with ink that’s invisible
A lie on the polygraph test, it’s detectable
It’s voodoo, some say black magic ettouffe, a dead man’s curse
Songwriter: Brendan Benson
My life in the D is a tragicomedy, a poetic verse
When God made the earth and saw his net worth, he posed for a shot
You’re wasting your breath on life after death 'cause I’m almost sure
If hell does exist, then the Devil’s a scientist, finding a cure
It’s just like the Egyptian tombs, tunnels leading to empty rooms
Publisher: GLADSAD MUSIC
It’s life, microscopic size, unseen by the naked eye
Skeptics think it’s a doctored photo of a U.F.O
It’s all just a hologram, locked in a vault, it’s a cryptogram