• But they don’t call it a war,
    they call it a nothing but ancient, Hebrew lore,
    we spend out lives on the line,
    carrying a burden knowing, we’re out of time,

    I know this kid, he grew up fast,
    everybody told him that he’ll never last,
    at party he was only 14,
    when the Christians started empting the room,
    upstairs, where nobody could see,
    the freaking occultiest started making a scene,
    a shadow, popped out of the roof,
    he prayed all night till it wound up poofed,
    a week later he wound up in hell,
    his back aching like he was under a spell,
    he back out, threw his bible away,
    afraid of where this path lay,

    But they don’t call it a war,
    they call it a nothing but ancient, Hebrew lore,
    we spend out lives on the line,
    carrying a burden knowing, we’re out of time,

    I knew this boy talented and strong,
    played a game called RIFTS all day long,
    him and his friends obsessed to extremes,
    magic, monsters, he don’t know where he leans,
    one day they followed the books advice,
    opened a portal, now his heads in a vice,
    because screaming inside of is his head,
    is the memory of his two friends, dead,
    it started out fine, an adventure they thought,
    until two demons chased them and his friends got caught,
    he woke up and shook his friends,
    knowing the rules, time only lends,
    he cried as the ambulance took them away,
    but this guy wasn’t even Christian, he never thought to pray,

    But they don’t call it a war,
    they call it a nothing but ancient, Hebrew lore,
    we spend out lives on the line,
    carrying a burden knowing, we’re out of time,

    I knew this girl she had a thing for spells,
    played with a wedgie board, excited by what it tells,
    her and her friends played it once or twice,
    not knowing they’d catch the devils lice,
    one day as her little sister entered the room,
    she wasn’t old enough but she’d been soon,
    started levitating and laughing with glee,
    “ I own her now, can you see?”
    The weeks passed as she twisted her head,
    needless to say I think it ended with her tied to her bed,

    But they don’t call it a war,
    they call it a nothing but ancient, Hebrew lore,
    we spend out lives on the line,
    carrying a burden knowing, we’re out of time,

    and as for myself? Well I’ll tell you one thing,
    even I have felt the devils sting,
    I watched with fear my whole life through,
    as shadows follow, and crawl on my roof anew,
    one day in the corner of my eye,
    at the foot of my bed a line of shadows lie,
    they come up to me one by one,
    as I desperately pray, the lord my loaded gun,

    and one by one, as their white eyes angrily stare,
    the walk, crawl away, in singles and pairs,
    I watched as the lord bound and cast out,
    some holding their heads, but none did shout,

    But they don’t call it a war,
    they call it a nothing but ancient, Hebrew lore,
    we spend out lives on the line,
    carrying a burden knowing, we’re out of time,

    as people I know humbled by fear,
    follow the bottle instead of Gods gear,
    “ it is amazing, is it true?”
    Well that’s entirely up to you,
    “what does the devil do knowing all this?”
    I don’t know I can only guess,
    these are just stories, a few in a bunch,
    but I’m pretty sure he just sits down to lunch,