Faust

I'm in yer guitar strings,

and inside yer blues.

Restin' on yer pillow,

and walkin' in yer shoes.

Met you,at a crossroads,

black,as an inkblot.

Don't worry,my son,I'll have ye,

well afore ye rot.

I cut ye yer slack,

gave ye free reign.

Don't you go forget me now,

for meet,we shall again.

Someday, you shall all be mine,

just yerselves ta blame.

For my name is Mephistopheles,

and Faust, 'tis my game.

ciao