The singer was young
Only just eighteen
Straight out of music school
With fame his only scheme
And one man said you have a choice
And this man's name was Doctor John Doe
He said for a price I'll make your voice
The most beautiful the world's ever known
Well the singer, he was young
His heart was full of fire
He said, 'John Doe I'll have it done
What is the payment you require?'
An eye for an eye
My boy, I'll keep my word
I'll let you sing
But when you speak
Your voice just won't be heard
He lay down on the doctor's slab
Arrayed in gleaming marble and steel
And John Doe's scalpel gave a stab
Then he gave the implant time to heal
The singer he was young
His young was still full of fire
He sing as he's never sung before
And only could inspire
But when he asked, 'where is my pay?'
His voice was swept away on the breeze
And when he said, 'let me rest today'
His moving lips were all you could see
Grace loved the singer from afar,
And she knew about his plight.
And so one day she crept backstage
And dealt John Doe a deadly strike.
But the blame fell on the singer,
And a price fell on his head.
So he gathered up his instruments and fled.
The singer, he was young
And he never got to grow old
For surgery's bad for the lungs
And prison cells can get quite cold
Or so I've been told