Devious legions lurking in broad daylight,
fiercely wandering like they always do;
preying on willing souls for centuries,
luring them by offering fantasies
But ****** are they—young Wormwood and Screwtape—
until men start slaughtering each other  
for tacos; flesh and blood jump to Sheol.

I hear the scratching in my walls all night
It sounds to sinister it gives me a fright
It could be mice or maybe legions
Of some really ******* ****** demons
I hope it's just my ****** up imagination
Not again, my own damnation
Guess I'll just lay here and wait for the screaming
I've past insane, there's no redeeming