For a certain kind of lifestyle, you get highs and lows |
So, you’ll sell Younger getting older You’ll sell when told Sell more Simple moments Means nothing, just a soul To be sold, and so he Sold his soul long ago for a long draw on a Marlboro Sold his soul The boy pulls up some chairs Cast around the room and Satan’s taken the hindmost Are we out there having fun? Clouds obscure the Sun’s rays, partially They float and break into such pattern Down below, the cool night has yet to come A hot force delivering Summer rumbles on Little nagging demons play across the frame Painting the sinner darkly into place Thieving little shards of white gold Stopping to pretend, on this weary march Apple and cherry blossoms both rediscover their colour As the early morning whispers to anyone who cares A simple prayer, strings weave through the air Gentle cadences, acoustic rhymes The Devil sitting still, ponders his Times Still with its lies, wars, and rumoured lies Some things don’t change, and he smiles Under the growing glow of the new day “Some things can never change” From the hindmost, he nods, and we oblige Smoke curling from his mouth, he turns Contemplates the Devil, a little smile on his face “Maybe not, but I’m not looking for a score So, please, feel free: take what you came for” Simple business, early morning, grey-blue with dew “I don’t care about this World of mine anymore” Satan’s smile widened, and he agreed “No, boy, just wastewater, washing to the sea” |