It won’t take any loner than fifteen minutes
I was told it won’t take any longer than twenty minutes.
God rush (in my lungs) – it’s a bitter pill to swallow.
Don't let it touch my tongue.
It's a crooked pill to swallow.
Have you been that way?
Have you seen your physician?
My doctor, I pray, keeps her straight position.
Gold rush in my lungs, don’t let it touch my tongue.
Gold rush , in my lungs, it’s a biter pill to swallow.
Don’t let it touch my tongue.
It’s a crooked pill to swallow.
My arm has gone dry to draw blood;
But the needle has got to measure me (or at least it should).
Gold rush – gold rush – gold rush –
Gold rush in my lungs – it’s a bitter pill.
It’s a bitter pill to swallow!
Don’t let it touch my tongue.
It’s a crooked pill.
It’s a crooked pill to swallow.
It won’t take any longer than twenty-five minutes.
It won’t take any longer than forty-seven years