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Sep 2019
The devil came a knocking ,
he just won’t go away ,
I told him it’s past bedtime,
and a prayer is on its way .

Yet still  he rattles his bones at my door ,
of souls he once cought  ,

and doesn't bother anymore.

Yet here am I all alone ,
with an eye for all the ladies and pritty young girls .

With their chandlers they bring ,
to ply me with drink .
For in their music halls they sing .
Sordid songs for a shilling and six ,
and dance on the tables champagne in one hand ,
conducting the choir ( with the other ) .

Now mr Charrington a Godly sacred man preaching the Lord ,
the best he can .
Yet the devils bones have still much more to say ,
about the ladies charms that seem here to stay .

So the moral be ( if there be one to tell )
follow the devils bones ,
one way to hell !
But if virtue I hold how honoured I might be ,
to know the king of love Christ Jesus ,
eternally .
And bless the ones that to this day ,
find virtue ,
and goodness be ,
with Christ Jesus eternally .

And O that old devil may rattle his bones across the gate of his grave
yard all on his own ,
just one thing I pray ,
you won’t turn the light off ,
and leave me alone .
.
Traveller in time
Written by
Traveller in time  Ashford. Middx
(Ashford. Middx)   
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