GRAVEROBBER: Out from the night, from the mist, steps the figure. No one really knows his name for sure. He stands at six-foot-six, head and shoulders. Pray he never comes knocking at your door! Say that you once bought a heart, Or new corneas, But somehow never managed to square away your debts. He won’t bother to write or to phone you. He’ll just rip the still-beating heart from your chest!
CHORUS: Reeepo maaan! Reeepo maaan!
GRAVEROBBER: Now you could run. You could hide. You could try to. But he always has a way of finding you. He will come at your weakest hour, When no one is around who might rescue you.
CHORUS: Reeepo maaan! Reeepo maaan!
GRAVEROBBER: And none of us are free from this horror, For many years ago, we all fell in debt. New body parts were needed to perfect our image. And until our debts are clear, We will live in fear of the...