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



chorus

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



chorus

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