He got a sheath made of plastic Grabs it over his head Fourty gallons of petrol Gonna burn you all dead A forty-five strapped to his side A machete in his hand Whats the name whats the game Holy hack jack's the man He's a sick sick, sick gone mother He's a sick sick, sick gone man He's a sick sick, sick gone mother He's a sick sick, sick gone man He hobbles along on a busted knee Knife strapped to his thigh Bombs and blades, hand grenades Somebody's gonna die With his cassocks an' his robes and his leather chaps Covered by a plastic mack He's sick he's insane Holy hack jack's at it again Sick sick, sick sick Clapped out buggy down darkened streets Likes to kill whoever he meets He's sick he's insane Holy hack jack's at it again Sick sick, sick sick He's a sick sick, sick gone mother He's a sick sick, sick gone man He's a sick sick, sick gone mother He's a sick sick, sick gone man Sick sick, sick sick