Oh Johnie,john,jo
far better the devil you know
than the words that grip and would flow down those avenues
where you could choose to tread upon with winged shoes or fly.

But you are tied to apron strings and this brings me to hereditary chance,
the things that we don't think about
but what makes us, what we're all about.
That little tweak that makes us speak the way we do
and a genetic whirl that makes my eyes so blue
a dance it's true
and we don't even learn a step
we get,
and what we get without a fight,
it is a humbling thought that from nothing,the nought we become the more,
and more than this,
kiss the devil goodbye though he may yet try to deceive you,believe me he's telling you lies,
that's his disguise and a good one too
but you can see through it
it's easy to do it
just open your
eyes.