He is dressed just like the devil, walking on cracking eggshells
These eyes are filled with an all too desirable kind of fire, destroying your supposed everything
He smiles when all that his detrimental mind ever does is roar out for a helluva lot more – he’s about to explode, control your trembling being ’til down on your crucified knees
Please him and you too can fall into absolute line, when the pair of you become entirely over-reliant upon all that’s magically wrong – this fucking thing is immaculate, handed to you on a fire-filled platter, stand with him and watch these ‘perfect’ people burn from the inside right out, amount to nothing soon as they seem to want everything
It’ll be the charming ones wearing nothing but muscles while gold placard business cards eat away at their over-filled pockets
Far easier to simply deceive than to let them get to flick the mirror one-eighty and unjustifiably burn your most desirable fate
This devil smokes cigarettes and drinks whiskey like it’s water

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