Down in the cellar 
You're getting into making poison. 
You slipped some on the side, 
Into my glass of wine, 
And I don't want any coffee--homeground.

Offer me a chocolate, 
No thank you, spoil my diet, know your game! 
But tell me just how come 
They smell of bitter almonds? 
It's a no-no to your coffee homeground.

Pictures of Crippin 
Lipstick-smeared. 
Torn wallpaper. 
Have the walls got ears here?

Well, you won't get me with your Belladonna--in the coffee, 
And you won't get me with your aresenic--in the pot of tea, 
And you won't get me in a hole to rot--with your hemlock 
On the rocks.

Where are the plumbers 
Who went a-missing here on Monday? 
There was a tall man 
With his companion, 
And I bet you gave them coffee--homeground.

Maybe you're lonely, 
And only want a little company, 
But keep your recipes 
For the rats to eat, 
And may they rest in peace with coffee homeground.

Well, you won't get me with your Belladonna--in the coffee, 
And you won't get me with your aresenic--in the pot of tea, 
And you won't put me in a six-foot plot--with your hemlock 
On the rocks.

You won't get me with your Belladonna--in the coffee, 
And you won't get me with your aresenic--in the pot of tea, 
And you won't get me in a hole to rot--with your hemlock 
On the rocks.

With your hemlock on the rocks. 
'Noch ein Glas, mein Liebchen?'*
With your hemlock on the rocks. 
'Es schmeckt wunderbahr!'*
With your hemlock on the rocks. 
'Und ???'