Devils pennies in a pot
Try to touch them I will not
How did they get there on this  night
This game it fills me full of fright
The faces on the pennies stare
I see the pain through all the glare
Fright fills me to the brink
I cannot bare to think
They are not pennies in the pot
For these are souls that he has got
They all were fools without a doubt
I now can hear them scream and shout
They played his games upon the land
And played right into his hot hands
Forever to rest inside his pot
As devils pennies scolding hot

copyright 2007 Mark Christensen
 

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