| As madmen, some hung head down
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| From a long dead tree
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| Some discuss, all at once
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| For no one to hear
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| Variations on emptiness
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| Great themes on vain glory
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| And as some go feral in strange performances
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| Dressing customs that are metaphors
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| Of your disease
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| Hungry eyes are looking for Me… Mephisto
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| Laughing, I feed you
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| With meaningless games, tricks and philosophies
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| Whose answers you would die for
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| In your hunger to believe
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| How it does amuse Me And makes Me wonder
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| For how long that it was Mine
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| Because now it does really inflame Me As if ignorance was my secret desire… Mephisto
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| I am an angel who dresses in red
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| Riding above you, etching fire rings
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| I have learned to fly
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| Don’t you remember?
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| While you still have not come down
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| From your long-dead tree
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| I can teach you wonders if you give me your soul
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| Marvels and wild dreams can be yours
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| I can teach you how iron turns to gold
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| And how life can grow so old
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| But I am a demon who dresses in red
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| And I do not hope you will understand… Mephisto |