Tuesday, Apr. 01, 2003 - 12:21 a.m.

In the sinister castle set high on the hill,

Lived a person who some said was mentally ill,

For he'd wander at night when all others were dreaming,

And awake those poor fools with unstoppable screaming.

----

You see, in that castle, on the hill, down the street,

Was a room where all manner of demons would meet.

In the dark midnight hours, or so tales were told,

The man in the house (who was pale, and quite old)

Would talk to the Devil himself, in the night.

Such stories would fill little children with fright.

----

The old man was thought of as wicked, and cruel,

But in truth he was naught be a naive old fool.

He'd opened the doorway to Hell, that is so,

But you can't really blame him, because he didn't really know.

----

The Devil had walked through that door straight from Hell,

Wearing black jeans, and sunglasses, trenchcoat as well,

And had stared with his eyes, all pinpointed red,

At the man who'd released him from the land of the Dead

And the Devil then smiled at the man, and then spoke,

In quite friendly tones, "I'm a reasonable bloke,

And you seem to have freed me from my God-given cell,

I was meant to damn you soon, my friend, but you're not going to Hell.

You'll stay in here, you will not die,

You can't escape, so please don't try."

----

Then the Devil had left, leaving demons behind,

Who caused all kinds of troubles with that poor old man's mind,

He soon went insane, so the people were right,

But they didn't know what had gone on that dark night,

And the people, who told all those terrifying things,

Never truly believed what they told, what they'd sing.

And the Devil, who sometimes came round for a while,

Would look down on the people unknowing, and smile.