[Intro: spoken, hype male DJ MC, needle drop] Ashgrove Hotel. Top floor. Halloween Manager said one thing. Don't stop [Verse 1: hype male DJ MC, ten-fifteen p.m.] Booked a Halloween gig at the Ashgrove, ballroom on the top Manager said, "Whatever happens, son, the music doesn't stop" I laughed and said, "That's my religion," set the crates up by the stage Found a dusty record in the booth, the label brown with age Ten-fifteen, the floor is packed, the costumes lookin' crazy real Flapper dresses, pinstripe suits, a man in spats who clicks his heels Clicker at the door says ninety, but I'm countin' three hundred heads And the ones in pinstripe suits ain't sweatin', and they're cold as the dead [Hook: hype male DJ MC] Dead set, spinnin' for the dead, I'm on a dead set Room full of guests, and not a one of 'em has broke a sweat I don't stop till the sun come up, that's a bet Dead set on livin', so I'm spinnin' 'em a dead set [Verse 2: hype male DJ MC, one-thirty a.m.] One-thirty, I let a song fade out to grab a sip of water Lights go dead, the room goes cold, and a hand is on my collar Old bartender leans in, "Twenty-six, the night it burned Band stopped playin' when the fire came, and the band never returned They don't want you dead, they want a band. Keep 'em dancin' till it's light Stop before the sun, and you're the band forever. Play it right" So I slam the next one in so fast the needle almost jumps Lights come back, the ceilin' sweats, and the floor begins to thump Three hundred hands up, and two hundred ten of 'em are ice I ain't lookin' at the clock again. I ain't gonna ask it twice [Hook: hype male DJ MC] Dead set, spinnin' for the dead, I'm on a dead set Room full of guests, and not a one of 'em has broke a sweat I don't stop till the sun come up, that's a bet Dead set on livin', so I'm spinnin' 'em a dead set [Scratch Solo: the DJ cuts up the old 1926 band record, clarinet stabs chopped against the breakbeat] [Verse 3: hype male DJ MC, six fifty-eight a.m.] Six fifty-eight, my hands are shakin', seven hours, not a gap Put that dusty record on, the one they never finished, and I scratch Nineteen twenty-six to twenty twenty-six, a hundred years apart I finish what they started, and I land it on the mark Sun comes through the windows, and the floor is empty, cold Just a pile of fur coats and a ring of tarnished gold Manager comes up with coffee, says, "First one since the band. Go rest" I said, "Same time next October. Tell your guests I take requests" [Final Hook: hype male DJ MC, biggest] Dead set, all night long I played the dead a set Hundred years they waited on a closer, best one they ever met Sun's up, I'm still breathin', that's a bet Dead set on livin', and I ain't done livin' yet [Outro: spoken, hype male DJ MC, needle lifts] Goodnight, Ashgrove [End]
