Please show your tickets at the window as you come inside.
My name is Nigel and I'll be your tour guide,
I'll be happy to answer questions on anything that's shown.
First we've got a big surprise, I'd rather not spoil it,
Oh well, all right, it's Elvis Presley's toilet,
So you can all re-enact the moment the King fell off his throne.
All those stars who made all those groovy sounds
Still live on, though they're six feet underground.
Come and see how they took their final breath,
At the Rock and Roll Hall of Death.
See the pills that Karen Carpenter took to stay skinny,
Gene Vincent's motorbike and Marc Bolan's mini,
Take a ride in Eddie Cochran's taxi or Buddy Holly's plane.
See Sid Vicious's syringes and a little bit later on,
The very vomit Jimi Hendrix choked on, Jim Morrison's rubber duck,
And a smattering of Kurt Cobain
All those stars who wrote all those timeless tunes,
We still love them, except perhaps Keith Moon.
They lived fast, died young, and we've got all that's left,
In the Rock and Roll Hall of Death.
We've got Mama Cass's sandwich box and Brian Jones's flippers,
Freddie Mercury's moustache comb and clippers,
But I'm sorry to say that isn't the saddest thing in here.
Look behind the 3D mobile of Michael Hutchence,
Past the space reserved for Martine McCutcheon,
There's a small, unmarked urn in which we keep Peter Andre's career.
All those stars we all loved throughout the years,
We hold on to the things that brought them here -
Be it booze, guns, cars, heroin or crystal meth -
To the Rock and Roll Hall of Death.