The Devil's Cafe

The Devil's Cafe

We're hiding from the light of day
dark children of the moon.
Waiting for the cool of night,
we know it's coming soon.

There's music in The Devil's Cafe,
it is an evil song.
We're sleeping in, til' we can play,
and midnight comes along.

Naked killers of a night breed
the living edge of death,
silent riders of the wind,
upon the Devil's breath.

The party's building in crescendo,
as sunset's falling down.
A guitar's playing seductively
when Satan comes to town.

You can feel the hunger burn,
overwhelming in desire.
It's a frenzied nightly needing
that is our burning fire.

We are feeders of the bloodfest,
revelers in the gloom,
children of the dark hereafter,
with evil fangs of doom.

Shadows in the ever fading light,
living to fear the day,
diners of a morbid feast,
down in The Devil's Cafe.

© Copyright 2007 T.L.Finch (UN: t.l.finch at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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