The Devil is a DJ
The devil is a DJ extraordinaire
Clad in a 3-piece suit and epaulettes
On a flaming turntable lies he spins
Melding, mixing, fanning, inciting
Until we forget their fiery myths
The devil gyrates on
Composing his calumny
Carnivorous ears smoulder
We dance upon the cinders
Consuming faux-phobias
One brave little soldier, two die
Two brave little soldiers …
In pools of blood, thousands lie
We dance to the war beat
Lapping up his words ablaze
Stamping our feet in the fire
Growing, searing, engulfing
Love and reason with ire
One brave little soldier, two die
Two brave little soldiers …
In pools of blood, our reflections lie
And we join in on the verse
Echoing back the chorus
Fever heightening, black pitch
Reaching for the crescendo
It’s with us or against
Pin-stripes ignite to brass, camouflage
The enemy’s the devil; kill or be killed
Fists erupt into a profaned night air
Take this inferno to the bastards, my brothers
So spins the maestro with horns in his hair
▶️ 3Speak