A wandering beggar digging holes in all unspoken deeds of old
 A yellow death lay on his face, a smile so fixed not of this race
 Indeed he'd known where he would go, to where he feared it clearly showed

 The devil I can safely tell
 Has neither hoof, nor tail, nor sting
 Nor is he, as some sages swear,
 A spirit, neither here nor there
 In nothing-yet in everything
 He is what we are-a gentleman
 A statesman spinning his web of crimes,
 A swindler, living as he can


 The ticking hour of Father Time released the memories locked in mind
 The clock's monotonous tick obscured to most this man's so lonely cry
 He'd said that with his clenched teeth, he'd seize the earth from underneath
 He'd seize the earth from underneath, and drag it with him down to hell