Running with the blade, you a has-been
Smoking on the devil's fucking magic
Take another cross to the farmhouse
Run up with the blade just to fall out

You live and you learn—I'm far from the urn
The devil be calling my grave
He's telling me, "Son, I have been away
But you are my soul and my blade."

I don't give a fuck—I'm the man now
Ask the fucking devil for a handout
I don't give a fuck and what order
Listen to the ground and cold sulfur

You live and you learn—I'm far from the urn
The devil be calling my grave
He's telling me, "Son, I have been away
But you arе my soul and my blade."