Marched through the badlands
Marched five hundred miles
Marched into your living room
Albeit uninvited
Set fire to everything here to the sea
Marching with the devil's infantry
There’s a blackout in the kitchen
Now come the servants and the cooks
Felt the tap upon my shoulder
"Son, that's not how it works"
So I torched the place to see what I can see
And there they were, the devil's infantry
I don’t care if you beliеve it
I won't blame you if you don't
Somehow, thе devil's paycheck ended up in my account

Like poetry and fire
In the sky, for all to see
Guess who's marching with the devil's infantry?

There'll be no dancing tonight
There'll be no dancing tonight
There’ll be no dancing tonight

There’ll be no dancing tonight