What if the devil stole your women
Do you wait for ransome notes?
Would you trust him? Could you trust him?
Trust him like mom with a hot needle
Or do you cut a hole in the roof?
Hell and dump down armfulls of flowers
And flat worms livening up his basement
And maybe his heart starts a-changing
And he starts sniffing flowers
And he lets your girl go
With fur coats and shit

You can't make satan prey
You can't sick mom armed with hot needles
You can't shoot guns down the sewer
Or bang on the ceiling angry for god
The devil is alot like you
He's scared up to it's horns of happiness
Don't deny yourself mornings
Sing in the face of your enemies

Copyright: BMG Rights Management, Royalty Network, Songtrust Ave, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Writer(s): John Farrar