Well, your clock is gonna stop
At Saint Peter’s gate
Ya gonna ask him what time it is
He’s gonna say, “It’s too late”
Hey, hey!
I’d sure hate to be you
On that dreadful day

You’re gonna start to sweat
And you ain’t gonna stop
You’re gonna have a nightmare
And never wake up
Hey, hey, hey!
I’d sure hate to be you
On that dreadful day

You’re gonna cry for pills
And your head’s gonna be in a knot
But the pills are gonna cost more
Than what you’ve got
Hey, hey!
I’d sure hate to be you
On that dreadful day

You’re gonna have to walk naked
Can’t ride in no car
You’re gonna let ev’rybody see
Just what you are
Hey, hey!
I’d sure hate to be you
On that dreadful day

Well, the good wine’s a-flowin’
For five cents a quart
You’re gonna look in your moneybags
And find you’re one cent short
Hey, hey, hey!
I’d sure hate to be you
On that dreadful day

You’re gonna yell and scream
“Don’t anybody care?”
You’re gonna hear out a voice say
“Shoulda listened when you heard the word down there”
Hey, hey!
I’d sure hate to be you
On that dreadful day

Copyright © 1964, 1967 by Warner Bros. Inc.; renewed 1992, 1995 by Special Rider Music