• Flooding torrents of anger and hate,
    Only a fool would take the bait.
    You know you may die at such a fast rate
    Nothing you see here is worth the wait-
    You might as well show up to the dance late.
    I suppose you will; after all-it is fate.

    Showing up late to these gates of hell
    You're given a chance, but choose wisely - and choose well.
    A nameless angel, representing your shell,
    Asks you once, "your soul - will you sell?"
    A demon with no knowing face to tell,
    tells you your answer will ring a bell.
    "Now," he says with a monotone voice, "that demon-did you fell?"

    You sit there wond'ring which to take,
    When suddenly, you are not sure which is fake.
    The demon and angel both at hell's gate,
    Or the straight jacket around you, with all of it's weight.