Speaking of tells between heaven and hell I have a demon in my forehead When damage is done i am the seventh son Feeling like the living dead I'm going out on a cold december night Spreading out the evil seed If you're doing it right black will turn to white Metal might is all you need I cout the lases the beast is torn The devil in me will reap what's sown Goin' straight down the white line I walk the devil's path I can see it clear now so close to the gates I am one with dakness and hel lawaits Goin' straight down the white line I walk the left hand path Speaking of saints while we dry out the paint A pentagram is on my back Like a monkey to speak and you listen to priests? Do you really think that god is fat? I was left out the can well i'm the boogie man Do you dare to do the beat? I never listened to priest though it seems like a feast Here we go and off the heat I don't speak of the devil Oh it's the devil that speaks to me