There’s John, the good old buddy – you mean the world to me,
If it wasn’t for your wisdom, well, I don’t know where I’d be,
And even though we’re miles apart, remember what I said…
Get to Heaven half an hour before the devil knows you’re dead.
A fine man that you are, indeed I’ve never met your match,
The seconds keep on ticking by the big hand on my watch,
And you won’t last forever here when all is done and said,
Get to Heaven half an hour before the devil knows you’re dead.
Oh, to all you great musicians who played the mean guitars,
Who would have thought, ten years ago, that we’d have come this far?
I’ve loved making the music, I’ve loved the things you played,
Get to Heaven half an hour before the devil knows you’re dead.
A fine man that you are, indeed I’ve never met your match,
The seconds keep on ticking by the big hand on my watch,
And you won’t last forever here when all is done and said,
Get to Heaven half an hour before the devil knows you’re dead.
Take it away.
To all you different people we met from time to time,
For everything you’ve given us, the rhythm and the rhyme,
For letting us invade your homes and giving us a bed,
Get to Heaven half an hour before the devil knows you’re dead.
A fine man that you are, indeed I’ve never met your match,
The seconds keep on ticking by the big hand on my watch,
And you won’t last forever here when all is done and said,
Get to Heaven half an hour before the devil knows you’re dead,
A fine man that you are, indeed I’ve never met your match,
The seconds keep on ticking by the big hand on my watch,
And you won’t last forever here when all is done and said,
Get to Heaven half an hour before the devil knows you’re dead.
