The devil loves karaoke
And she won’t leave the bar
The owner gave me the keys
And left me in charge
I hate this fucking pastime
And the way it makes her feel
Jealous of the devil
And her sex appeal
She holds the mic so gently
Closes her eyes as she sings
She definitely isn’t here
Girl might as well have wings
I tiptoe past the tables
Catch a bottle before it falls
My eyes looking for escape
No windows, only walls
In the padded cell we share
As I reach to swipe the mic
When she grabs my hand and twirls me
Like I’m someone she really likes
As her lips come close to climax
And the song begins to fade
She looks into my eyes and whispers
“Your night just got made.”
Bitch