||[Dec. 8th, 2006|03:36 pm]
Them (from There)
*Satan at the piano, playing to an unseen audience*|
Went down to the crossroads, what did you think I'd see
Whole long line of people, tryin' to sell their souls to me
You know I blame that goddamn Robert Johnson, he made it so trendy
...an' if you think he went through hell before, you should see what happened *after* I got hold of him, you know what I'm sayin'...
What the hell you people think that I want your souls for anyway
I got a basement full of them now, they're all cluttering up the place
Well they just sit there like Christmas fruitcakes, growing staler day by day
*into the solo*
...this whole damnation kick was God's idea, y'know. Stuck me with it just to get back at me. Weird sense of humor, that one...
Well y'know hell is just God's junk drawer, full of souls he can't repair
I don't do a damn thing to 'em, it's torture enough just being there
And that's the cruelest thing 'bout hell...
*emphasized chord, tacet*
...that the devil just don't care.
*bringing it home with a flourish, sits back, and lets Them fill up his jar with tips*
*piano bursts into flames just for effect*