None More Black
None More Black
None More Black
None More Black
None More Black
None More Black
None More Black
None More Black
None More Black
None More Black
None More Black
None More Black
None More Black
Late night creeping's got me tangled up in secrets I don't like
I'm not the type for the white-belt, red-tie life
It's something that I never tried
No notes in my book
'Cause it's only memory
My socks don't match
And that don't mean a thing to me
I'm sink, sink, sinking on a soul
I couldn't sell to Satan
I'm comfortable in flames, don't care if he'll be waiting
I'm sailing down to hell
I've missed a lot in a shell-shocked, shelled kind of life
But thanks to modern medicine, now I'm doing alright
I've got this guitar
And a pocket full of friends
It's worth more
Than I could ever, ever spent
Sink, sink, sinking on a soul
I couldn't sell to Satan
I'm comfortable in flames, don't care if you'll be waiting
I'm sailing down to hell
So who's with me?