Hell's Belle

She takes the old man by the hand
Thinking this will be his final stand
The last time that he'll find some luck
And go out with a bang-up fuck

But she doesn't see his eyes
The demonic glint, the million lies
Or know "Damian" his given name
Three sixes as his mark of fame

Sulphur rising from his pores
Faint smoke drifting from his drawers
He's hardly just another "date"
Too late now. Her hour grows late.

But she is just a "working girl"
Body taut, head in a whirl
Not one for truly wicked ways
She'll find freedom by the End of Days.