Death Has Two Left Feet

[Intro: one-bar brass pickup, immediate full-band swing groove; dry spoken male baritone] "I have come for your soul." "You're early. The band's still on." [Verse 1: swinging bass, stride piano, clipped guitar accents; theatrical baritone] The clock struck twelve. He checked his list, My name beneath a coffee stain. He laid one finger on my shoulder. The trumpet started up again. The bouncer took his scythe away: "No farming tools inside the club." Somebody pushed him toward the dance floor. He said, "I only came for one." [Pre-Chorus: rising brass, heavier guitars, building drums] He tried to point toward the exit. The crowd mistook it for a move. A hundred people copied him. Now he's got something left to prove. [Chorus: heavy swinging guitar riff, bright brass hook; gritty lead and shouted backing vocals] Death has two left feet! Give the poor man room. He can stop a heart at midnight, But he cannot find the groove. Death has two left feet! Keep those elbows to yourself. He can lead you to the afterlife— He can't even lead himself. [Verse 2: playful saxophone answers, chugging guitars, steady shuffle] He tried to glide. He caught the carpet. His jaw went sliding past the bar. A woman handed it back politely: "You dropped your smile, sweetheart." I bought him gin. It filled his loafers. He said, "I used to be feared." The band announced a dance-off. He whispered, "Get me out of here." [Short Build: brass stabs and rising guitar chugs] He offered me another decade If I could teach him how to turn. [Chorus: full electro swing and groove metal fusion] Death has two left feet! Give the poor man room. He can stop a heart at midnight, But he cannot find the groove. Death has two left feet! Keep those elbows to yourself. He can lead you to the afterlife— He can't even lead himself. [Breakdown: heavy half-time groove, swung subdivision, brass stabs; shouted dance instructions] Step. Drag. Mind the robe. Step. Crack. There goes the hip. [Spoken Exchange: deep deadpan voice, then impatient dance instructor] "I am the end of all things." "Then finish the routine." [Instrumental Break: four bars, saxophone and distorted guitar trade the main hook] [Final Chorus: biggest brass and guitars, exuberant gang responses] Death has two left feet! Give the poor man room. He can stop a heart at midnight, But he cannot find the groove. Death has two left feet! Keep those elbows to yourself. He can lead you to the afterlife— He can't even lead himself. [Outro: abrupt band stop; dry spoken baritone] "Your appointment has been moved." "To when?" "After I've mastered the turn." [Final brass stab and heavy guitar hit; end]