You Can'T Keep Dancing With the Devil and Wonder Why You'Re Still In Hell

The deal is done you’ve sold your soul, hurled yourself into a pit of coal, whirling like a dervish you fan the flame, each time he invokes his unholy game. In a ball gown made of funeral palls, you dance with the devil each time he calls. Entranced by his rhythmic violin, you live a life of perfect sin. You lie and cheat, your wish is his pleasure, have everything you want, wine, women and treasure. You believe it’s right even though it’s wrong now Satan’s the singer and you’re the song. But soon the glitter will turn to dust, the gold and silver he promised will turn to rust. As you twist and writhe he’ll revel as you burn, for this is a lesson you’ll never learn. To the devils tune you dance so well yet you wonder why you’re still in hell.