Supposing you come meet Satan
He is not one but many people
A red lipped hard eyed wanton
A derelict believed to be insane from drink
Someone who knows the devil really is
A murderous bludgeon in determined hands

No one stands behind Satan
He came from Hell to organize his people
All they have to do is kneel down in
The graveyard the dead around them
While their master intones black mass
A strange unnearthliness about their faces
An eager rapture ferret like on their features
All the juices in their bodies bursting into flame
One of Satan’s wild bullets embedded in their brain

Based on material from “League of the Grateful Dead” by Day Keene