Sold my soul to a demon...
in a tan speckled skirt
and a hot white top.

Sacrificing burnt offerings 
and dreaming of this 
smouldering love I can't stop.

I wake up every morning 
with craving desires,
For that taste on my lips,
and on my fingertips,
My addiction that's fired

with passions desires, 
putting good men before me
into their shadowed crypts.

It's a match made in hell
scratched from 
sulphur and flames,
Love that comes in a rush,
known by so many names...

To A Newport I'll sail,
where Virginia so slim,
with a warm, smokey voice,
will seduce me again.

Can't escape this romance,
in any bar that I like,
after last call,
I'll go back home with
my Lucky Strikes.

So don't dare 
ever sell off
your soul to a demon
in a tan speckled skirt
with a hot white top,
or you'll wind up 
like I am

left 
helplessly screaming,
and breathlessly begging 
for other ways to get off.

If my songs leaves a mark,
before my final sleep.
I hope you all heed this warning
and choose not to leap
for habitual love
that won't leave you alone,
cause I guarantee soon you'll see 
my name etched deep in stone,
on smooth granite too early
but the fault was...... my...... own. 


ArtWhimsically Yours Studio

MFB III Productions