The Devils Puppeteer

At night I stand behind you when nobody else will
With a firm hand on your shoulder
Sending whispers which fall upon your ear
I speak with the persuasiveness that one would expect
I am the hand which holds the razor aching for your neck
And still... nothing will ever hold you so dear

Looming like a black cloud rolling in the shape of an angel
I've buried my halo to keep you from the light of it
I am a storm hanging just above you, possessive and always near
For your soul is their debt but you are my toy so long as you are here

From above I cast a shadow black with ease
And while I flick my wrists to the beat of unnatural things
You prance like my marionette without strings
As you dance with my hands, our shadows match and leave you strapped with Satan's wings

Sin for me, my Puppet so easily convinced
Cum as my words inseminate your ear
I am not your guardian angel
I am The Devils puppeteer