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The Devil`s Gotta` Earn

by Brett Detar
I hear everbody talking wishin` I was gone.
Everybody else is doin` everybody wrong.
Well alright. I`m done hangin` round.
I don`t need no needle, and I don`t need no
	pills.
And I don`t need no doctor to tell me how I feel.
Alright, you can keep the bill.

I been drinkin` poison and hopin` you`d fall ill.

So maybe I`m an angel and maybe I`m a thief.
Maybe I`m a beggar that you walk by on the
	street.
Alright, you cut off both my wings.
Sell me for a nickel. The devil`s gotta earn.
I don`t need no banker to tell me what I`m worth.
It`s alright. Some folks they never learn.
You`re eating fire and you`re praying I get
	burnt.

Papa always warned me, "Careful who you trust.
	Kings - they build their castles with your blood.
	It`s alright. They all just turn to dust.
So, let `em take your wallet. Let `em take your
	things. You got your soul, boy and that`s all you
	need to sing."
Well alright then. Come on take everything.

Like stealin` flowers from the graves of the
	deceased.
They`re doin` nothin and takin` claim for
	everything.
Like getting married without payin` for the ring.
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