They all say it must of been the Devil.
Don't bother me, I don't care.
I don't need no credit.
I know that I was there.
The Devil ain't got **** on me,
although of him I'm well aware.
His demons are hot on my trail,
though they ain't seen no hide nor hair.
I can hear them calling my name,
their breathing boils the air.
Well the sons of ******* they don't know,
I live right up the stairs.
I'm goin' to see that woman,
but that woman, she won't see me.
Gonna cut her open,
let her blood run free.
Gonna slice and dice each vein twice,
slash her up with glee.
The lovely canvas of her body,
sprawled out on the floor.
If I only had the courage,
to let the razor spill the gore.
But the angels took my confidence,
left me blind of what's in store.
Someone on this site pointed out that my stuff is slipping. So I'll be changing my poetic style.