The Devil

The devil's in the graveyard reading names
Of all the ones he tripped up on the way
He sits down in the moonlight, wipes his tears
Staring at the white rose that he placed
In front of the grave he visits each day since she slipped away

The devil hides his blue eyes in his hand
He wipes away the last tears as he stands
He hears her voice so clearly on the breeze
She's singing like an angel to his weakest knees
So he twists off the cap and tips his head back for that sweet relief

The devil's walking slowly on the street
Towards his empty condo where he'll creep
The silence of his bedroom before he slips
Into his every nightmare as he sleeps
He sees her bright smile at the heavenly gates as he's turned away