I make hits for M.G.M.
They cost me dear, but they pay me well.
Choice of method, place and time;
tie round your neck that had once fit mine.
Your contract's ended, and now I have mine.
It's out of my hands.
Time for you to take a bow.
A tighter close-up you will never have.
Sorry you won't have a chance to smile-
with proper make-up you won't look half bad.
I've a point of conversation.
You have outlived your duration.
What else can I say but, "It's nothing personal"?
It's just another head shot for a shot in the head.
Misters Goldwyn, Mayer say that Miss Todd has to go.
So, on with the show.
Mourning paper's hit the stands;
contains news of your untimely demise.
Best you read it whilst you can.
Worry not, for I will close your eyes.
Your contracts ended and now I have mine.
It's out of my hands.
"I should kill for less," "Do you want some more?"
"I will do my best." "What gazette's this for?"
"I should kill for less," "Do you want some more?"
"I will do my best." "What gazette's this for?
I was wondering, why it was you tried to hide.
Market the target,
create different plugs for you and I.
I'm just hastening your slow motion suicide.
I'm not wondering just how and when you're going to die.
I make hits for M.G.M.