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