A feelings gropin', tryin' to open and get inside,
Notin' my palms are soakin, I really need to hide,
No sugar coatin, neck chokin', "HELP!" I nearly cried,
My stomach bloatin', but copin', i pretend i'm fine,
Tokin' the smoke floatin', til my lungs are fried,
Hot rods pokin my sides, sure I nearly died,
Horrified, I wrote in tongues, in demon rhymes,
Departed when I started ghost writing for the devil,
Half hearted, thinkin' hell'll be something I revel,
Retarded thoughts of a medal comes to the level,
Martyred in a light hearted musical meddle,
Gate parted, guarded by black hearted angels a treble,
My heart had stopped and started, not such a rebel,
An uncharted object darted, the size of pebble,
It was my soul being carted with the view to dishevel,
I get a nod, the devil came to end my shame,
I plod over to him, evidently insanely in pain,
Oh my God.. What's that sound, sounds like a train,
Like a hob, i feel burning, like he's poaching my brain,
I feel odd, really angry, I claim he's inhumane,
A demon squad increase my massive pain with acid rain,
He hands a wad of money to me, I don't complain,
"You get gifts from God, I make you work for the fame.."
