Friends with the Devil

By Manuel Newton

 

I live in a graveyard, what a pretty site,

I love to hear the wolves howl at the moonlight,

I’m friends with the devil, I like to hear him bitch,

He tells me many lies, like he can make me rich.

 

I sleep in a coffin, oh, the damp dingy mist,

I got worms in my pocket, maggots in the palm of my fists,

I hear the moans of dead people every now and then,

I fly like a bat free in the wind.

 

The smell of rotting corpses always makes my day,

I cry out to the devil, wont you come out and play,

Oh, the sweet suffering my victims do go through,

I love to hear them scream as I slice them in two.

 

It hasn’t always been this good, oh, it’s so sad,

I had to kill my mother, I was only a small lad,

Now I’m doomed forever, oh, isn’t it grand,

Now I’m friends with the devil, buddies with the damned.

 

 

 

 

 

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