The Riff
I met Mr. Death this morningHe offered me a rideI said I think I'm not quite ready yetTo 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 seatOf his Chevy vanThe motor screamed like a pack of ratsIn a frying pan
The headlights were shooting sparksAnd the tyres spinning flames"Well, alrighty then"He said and opened up his case
[Chorus]The grim reaper played guitarHis bony fingers cold and stiffThe sonic thunder froze my heartAs he cranked out the riff
Then his song was overAnd he asked me not to lieI felt a bit uneasyBut I dared to criticize
I told him, "Man, the riff is a killerBut the rest is a throw-away"His face looked disappointedBut he said, "Ah, it's okay"
I asked him, has he shownThe devil what he's got"He's written hitsBut lately he has not"
So the devil's out of touchAnd he cannot smell a hit"Cuz he has lost his mindWith all that hip-hop shit"
[Chorus]
I woke up and the van was upside downMy body bleedsWe must have crashed right off the roadAnd Death could barely speak
He said, "Listen, you gotta take my placeI'm leaving office soon"I said, "I'm sorry dude, I'm kinda busyBut tell you what: I'll take the tune"And it goes like this...
[Chorus x2]
He cranked out the riff [x4]