I have seen the devil, and the devil has seen me.
He walks down the street where I live
and waits outside my bedroom at night
under the full moonlight.
He stares at me with beady red eyes,
and he glares at me with those beady red eyes.
He waits outside my bedroom at night
under the full moonlight,
with those damn beady red eyes.
I hear his black heart beating
from under his chest.
I cannot rest.
And his claws are tapping, tapping,
ever so gently rapping, rapping
on the raw cement.
As he sits waiting, waiting, waiting for me,
to stake his claim and run away with me.
His hatred seeps and creeps
from under his skin,
and I feel his breath,
that putrid breath running, running down my spine,
as if to say, "Now you are mine."
And his claws are tapping, tapping,
ever so gently rapping, rapping on the raw cement.
As his black heart is beating and bleating,
bleating and beating.
And those beady red eyes,
the eyes of nothing, stare and glare,
glare and stare at me.
Oh, how my blood turns cold,
for the tale has been told,
and my soul has been sold,
for I have seen the devil, and the devil has seen me.
~Billie. Miller~
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