the devil you don't

from we are the garages (vol 3) by the garages

written and performed by Agent 39.2 voice of Three-Piece is Sci-Fi Boyfriend sound design assistance provided by BONES

was a deep dark night when I took a left when I should’ve taken a right,
and I ended up at a crossroads, not the Hall of Flame,
out of the shadows a figure deft, the very personification of theft,
in a three piece suit says “This ain’t the usual name of the game,


got an offer here, you can’t refuse”, they roll out their scroll, quite bemused,
and before I know it, my hand has already signed,
“Most folks come to me to improve their sound, let’s try something else this time around”,
So we join the living 'n leave this joint behind


I’m back in the game and playing good, if my luck holds, 1, 2, 3, knock on wood,
I’ll be MVP five times in a row,
them balls I throw are streakin’ hot, before too long everyone's forgot,
that I was deader'n a doornail and now I'm showered in gold


a bit later I realize, it was as my friends theorized,
my pitches are makin' a killin' in more ways than one,
I tell Three-Piece that I want out, they says "I can't bring that about,
come back when you’ve stopped a few more of those runs”


several more folks burnt to a crisp, nothing more left than a wisp,
and I try to break that cursed pitchin’ arm,
just when I try to yank away, the rest of my body disobeys,
three-Piece, grinning, says “Don’t you do no harm”


let me out! I don’t wanna do this no more! But I can’t seem to find a door,
that don’t lead to that bedeviled pitcher’s mound,
my feet walk on of their own accord, all my protests deftly ignored,
my cries smothered afore I can make a sound


I try my very best to resist, but even then I can’t desist,
from fielding a couple horsemen that doomsday,
then the last of my resolve is broken, when that confounded word is spoken,
by the Ump: “PLAY.”


when I get off the field, there freshly sewn, a three-piece suit, all of my own,
I put it on while felling a single tear,
since then not a tear’s been shed, I’ve won the rat race, miles ahead,
and if we’re being honest here?
I’ve been dead all these years