I met the devil on the razor edge of Pembroke and Third
While the corner cafe stealthily sold me hunger
In the scent of overburnt croissants and coffee spills.

You've got flecks of him in your eyes, you know,
They're the color of an impassioned yellow sky,
And your mouth froths a bit like boiling water.

And your laugh barks like a mangy dog
That's found another final meal
In a pool of scraps and pigeon blood.

The ground is too flat here, and the world too grey.
The wind whistles too loud and cars
Are leaving me behind in too much of a hurry.

But this is just a stop, just a chance meeting
With another glimpse of the devil
Until the bus unfreezes time in this toy town.

Until I can hide with the rats in the darkest
Corners of buggy bright lights
And share a bed with another devil in another station.