Satanic Blues Forever
Empty parks and concrete tables, wicked symbols etched on trees, the demons show up at your beckon. You struck a deal and lit the fire, paper burnt in bitter smoke, ‘What do you wish for?’ Asked the wind ushered, creeping up my spine. You wished for greatness, for riches, for the knowledge of the gods, I only wished to stay with you, no matter what you want to do; to lay with you on thrones…