The devil works with idle hands, well these hands?
They’re a strummin
Heaven sure had different plans 'cause the devil?
He’s still-a-coming
Told me I could be a six-string picker
Lighting any stadium on fire
He said it was free under one condition
“I take your life in three years' time”
Oh no
“I take your life in three years' time”

At the stroke of twelve I turn twenty-four
That’s when I gotta make my decision
Do I go to hell and burn my soul
For three years of singing and pickin'?
Wеll, momma told me to watch myself
Pay attention and keep my hеad on a swivel
But I promised her that I’d help us our
So the ink is dry and my fingers are itching like
My fingers are itching like

Well name a stage, you bet I’ve played it
And raised the roof and brought the house down
And made it rain, turned strings to flames
But I hate to say it’s my final countdown
Before I go let momma know
That she owns my bank account now
I built a home from solid gold
She ain’t got nothin' to worry about now
Oh no
She ain’t got nothin' to worry about now
Oh no
Before I know three years is gone
Turned twenty-seven at the crossroads
Lord I know the deal is done
'Cause that dirty bloody devil, came-a-knockin
Robert J and Kurt Cobain and Amy, they’re a watching
Valerie and Purple Haze are playing and I can hear Janis Joplin saying

La da da, la da da da, la da da, la da da da da
La da da, la da da da, la da da, la da da da da da da