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Feb 2016
There was a woman with an ecclesiastic body.
I found out I was just one member of its congregation.
She was a soothsayer when the lights were down,
When she proved she was a succubus -
But what the ****, I've never been a saint.
She put the screws to me.

She used to belong to another man.
Now she's putting me through my paces.
If I had paid attention to the signs,
I could have seen my fate before it happened.

There was this dude I knew who was hard pressed.
I thought I might could offer him a place to crash for awhile,
So he could get his **** together.
Apparently demons have an appetite for gutter ****.

They took a ride in my ride,
And didn't forget my checkbook.
They didn't neglect to clean my house
Of nearly everything inside.
It was just a reminder,
Cause it really ain't no surprise.

That there's a burning lake
And gnashing on flesh,
Yeah, it's nothing but any empty, cold black well.
It's a Godless place,
You're on your own.
There ain't no honor among thieves.
Remember this,
There are no friends in Hell.

There are accusations to bring me down,
It's like I'm already dead.
They throw down their gauntlets,
They make every pledge.
I don't trust a word they say.
They're liers and deceivers.
All they want is whatever they can get.

They prey on fools and their believers.
They'll prophesy, then pass you by
Unless you've got an edge,
The dusty demons, dryer than a dessert segde.

They took a ride in my ride,
And didn't forget my checkbook.
They didn't neglect to clean my house
Of nearly everything inside.
It's just a reminder, but it really ain't no surprise.

That there's a burning lake
And gnashing on flesh,
Yeah, it's nothing but any empty, cold black well.
It's a Godless place,
You're on your own.
There ain't no honor among thieves.
Remember this,
There are no friends in Hell.

She never failed to cause me woe.
But, I'm not an innocent soul.
I guess what goes around,
Comes back around.
When it's harvest time, they'll know,
They done ****** with the wrong one.
Everybody reaps what they sow.

They took a ride in my ride,
And didn't forget my checkbook.
They didn't neglect to clean my house
Of nearly everything inside.
It's just a reminder, but it really ain't no surprise.

That there's a burning lake
And gnashing on flesh,
Yeah, it's nothing but any empty, cold black well.
It's a Godless place,
You're on your own.
There ain't no honor among thieves.
Remember this,
There are no friends in Hell

There is no such thing as kindness here.
I'll save troubles for another day,
They only multiply.

The more I see, the more I know
That strumpets belong with urchins.
They never will know,
Until they are each other's paroxysm,
But even then, they won't care.

No good deed is without a price to pay.

They took a ride in my ride,
And didn't forget my checkbook.
They didn't neglect to clean my house
Of nearly everything inside.
It's just a reminder, but it really ain't no surprise.

That there's a burning lake
And gnashing on flesh,
Yeah, it's nothing but any empty, cold black well.
It's a Godless place,
You're on your own.
There ain't no honor among thieves.
Remember this,
There are no friends in Hell.
Last night my song writing partner(I do the Lyrics, he works up the music)  gave me the proverb "There Are No Friends in Hell" and asked me to write a treatment for another hard rock tune. He loves to rip on guitar. We talked many concepts. I reference some of the elements as a starting point, and built the lyrics from inside out.
I figured people don't get to hell by being good people. So the guy in my song is not an innocent victom. He kind of stole a woman from another guy, and in turn, she and another guy ends up ******* him over big time.
As soon as I could get home, nearly midnight, I wrote this piece. I retain ownership of the lyrics. I posted it to hellopoetry as soon as I finished it, around 1:36 the next morning. It is purposely jagged and rough because I wanted to leave a wide option for vocal styling, wailing, growling, moaning or screaming. We will make it fit whatever music he has in mind.
Initially, I wanted our collaborations to be more jazzy and r&b; routed, but our styles are kind of rubbing off on each other. Since all rock music comes from the same place, they fold well into each other.
*one final note - this song has to be very edgy if it is going to work. When you build a song around a cliche, it could easily become campy, or could be a "send up" comedic piece instead of being gritty. Sometimes I like the tounge-in-cheak outlandish approach and work toward an over-the-top affect. This is not the case with this song. It is a little thematic, but I think the real cleaverness is that hidden within the occasional expletives, the deeper subtlety of ****** innuindo can be found if you want to look for it. It is not really hidden.
Cecil Miller
Written by
Cecil Miller  Louisiana
(Louisiana)   
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