I saw it suddenly and it scared me. The devils in his eye’s.
I see it clear.
Most think he the devil only dwells in the blue or green eyed men.
But this devil’s taken to my brown eyed man, singing, he sings downtown, calling it the blues.
I see it in his eyes, I hear it in his voice.
He moans and groans, scatting about his choice.
My man with the devil in his eyes, has a delightful voice.
But that’s besides the point.
He called three times, and he came.
“That son of a bitch, went and gave it up!”
The devils in his eyes, and now he’s lost his choice.
Night after night, he howls the devil’s favorite tune’s.
That thing that dwells deep within all of us, he gave his own up.
And now he sings, every night about his deal with the devil.
And people listen from dusk to dawn, to that man singing about the devil in his eyes, and how he stole his soul.
Telling stories, he says the devil whispered in his ear.
Going on about when he called three times, some late, dark night.
Telling people, “I can’t cry.”
“Cause I’m the one that let him in. Ever since that night, I can’t sleep so I stay here and chant the blues.
I see things, no man should ever see.
When I let the devil in, he made himself at home.
Can’t shoo him out, because he’s got, my soul.
My mother cried and begged me to take it back. But I couldn’t tell her, it was a done deed, signed my name, and its a cold hard fact.
Now, I just close my eyes and humm that same ole tune. And think to myself the devils got me beat. I’ll just continue to play the blues. The devil’s tune will never change, I heard it on the night he came. A, C, B, C”….
But it’s just what I heard from this ole girl who loved a brown eyed man, with the devil in his eyes.
