I met Mr. Death this morning
He offered me a ride
I said I think I'm not quite ready yet
To travel by your side
"Practice what you preach"
Then said the count of shadowlands
"It doesn't hurt to take a peek"
He grinned and grabbed my hand
I sat in the leather seat
Of his Chevy van
The motor screamed like a pack of rats
In a frying pan
The headlights were shooting sparks
And the tyres spinning flames
"Well, alrighty then"
He said and opened up his case
The grim reaper played guitar
His bony fingers cold and stiff
The sonic thunder froze my heart
As he cranked out the riff
Then his song was over
And he asked me not to lie
I felt a bit uneasy
But I dared to criticize
I told him, "Man, the riff is a killer
But the rest is a throw-away"
His face looked disappointed
But he said, "Ah, it's okay"
I asked him, has he shown
The devil what he's got
"He's written hits
But lately he has not"
So the devil's out of touch
And he cannot smell a hit
"Cuz he has lost his mind
With all that hip-hop shit"
I woke up and the van was upside down
My body bleeds
We must have crashed right off the road
And Death could barely speak
He said, "Listen, you gotta take my place
I'm leaving office soon"
I said, "I'm sorry dude, I'm kinda busy
But tell you what: I'll take the tune"
And it goes like this...