Worried about Satan

{This is an interpretation}

The years they must be good to you it seems

And we share our dissevered gene

And he's twenty-five sittin' and no complaining

He says you gotta be over the fuzz

You remind even me

That I'm not an absentee

Fuck 'em all, but you mean

And you say you want rid of me

You're not kidding me!

Who's she gonna mary at all

And his face is half of a ball

And he's just been flattering his? doubling

He's staring all over this wall

But he thinks he's allowed

To be smothering in love

But he knows he's a cheese

He's shrubbery

This kinda robbery