Old Scratch
Well the Devil always collects his due
Gets his pound of flesh/ from you
Satan ain't a friend
But Ill gladly help you
Just sign here on the dotted line
One pen stroke and your soul is mine
Now make your ask
We're wasting time
Tell me what do you dream
Marry a pretty girl out a magazine
Make lots of money be a CEO
Whatever you ask I won't say no
Got an Enemy that needs killing
Just tell me the name and the blood start spilling
All of this for just one simple cost
Chorus
You scratch my back
I'll scratch yours
It's Old scratch scratching at your back door
You made a deal
And now there's hell to pay
There's an Old man sitting on his back porch
Bible in one hand the other is a pitch fork
Hoping to scare ole slewfoot away
He made the deal fifty years ago
Now he prays to god that I'll let him go
But per our terms and conditions
His soul is headed straight to perdition
My Black boots click as they approach
Coming to stomp out this roach
It's out of control and I need to collect his soul
No hope no chance no solving riddles
This devil don't care about fiddles
Just close your eyes and walk this way
You can beg
You can plead
Do what lever you need
But in the end your still coming with me
Sorry but this is how it has to be
You scratch my back
I'll scratch yours
It's Old scratch scratching at your back door
You made a deal
And now there's hell to pay
Gets his pound of flesh/ from you
Satan ain't a friend
But Ill gladly help you
Just sign here on the dotted line
One pen stroke and your soul is mine
Now make your ask
We're wasting time
Tell me what do you dream
Marry a pretty girl out a magazine
Make lots of money be a CEO
Whatever you ask I won't say no
Got an Enemy that needs killing
Just tell me the name and the blood start spilling
All of this for just one simple cost
Chorus
You scratch my back
I'll scratch yours
It's Old scratch scratching at your back door
You made a deal
And now there's hell to pay
There's an Old man sitting on his back porch
Bible in one hand the other is a pitch fork
Hoping to scare ole slewfoot away
He made the deal fifty years ago
Now he prays to god that I'll let him go
But per our terms and conditions
His soul is headed straight to perdition
My Black boots click as they approach
Coming to stomp out this roach
It's out of control and I need to collect his soul
No hope no chance no solving riddles
This devil don't care about fiddles
Just close your eyes and walk this way
You can beg
You can plead
Do what lever you need
But in the end your still coming with me
Sorry but this is how it has to be
You scratch my back
I'll scratch yours
It's Old scratch scratching at your back door
You made a deal
And now there's hell to pay
Credits
Writer(s): Nathan Boeckman
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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