Death Followed the Devil

Death approached young Johnny, with his cello in a case,

His bony fingers crawled 'neath his robe, no expression on his face,

"You beat the devil, Johnny, but don't go thinking that you've won,

Everybody falls to me, no matter what they've done."

Well, Johnny looked Death up and down, golden bow in hand,

He grabbed his fiddle and vowed to Death "I'll play the best I can."

Johnny faced Death himself, and with no quiver in his voice,

He told the creature "you first, old man", he gave the beast no choice.

As Johnny watched, Death played a song to make the dead men rise,

The dancing ghosts encircled death and sang to the reprise.

When Death's song came to an end, he looked Johnny in the eye,

His voice rang out "it's your turn, Johnny. Fail and you're mine.

It's time to string your bow, Johnny, Death is taking names.

You may have beaten the devil, boy, but Death's a different game."

Well, Johnny raised his fiddle, and he began to play,

The saddest song Death ever heard, until that very day.

A blackened, haunting fairy tale of misery and woe,

That wrapped Death in a cold embrace, as Johnny moved his bow.

The song played out, Death turned away, all heard his soft sigh,

Young Johnny was the only man to ever make Death cry.