Yellow Sticker on an Empty Fridge

He’ll come knocking when he’s ready so you better get the door Don’t let the black clothes fool you: he hates the shadows too He’s a thunderbolt in August and a March-time rolling hill He’s a winter without snowfall, he’s your credit that is due With gnashing teeth and iron fist A yellow sticker on an empty fridge Hear him coming up the path, crushing dirt in those big boots He’ll go turning gravel over to show you what’s beneath He’s got Atlantic city postcards hidden in his coat He collects used bullets stored in the shoes down on his feet Who lives in his father’s house? Who’s as quiet as a mouse? With gnashing teeth and iron fist A yellow sticker on an empty fridge When you let him in the house, put water on the stove Make sure the liquor shelf is bursting and all the beer is cold He don’t take no for an answer like a plane cuts through the sky He’ll sell you down the river, down the river you are sold