The Devil's Share Lyrics

Lead (GMH)

While God he taketh and he giveth
His angels are naught but winged sinners
Begging for scraps from the masters table
Who pities this poor ragged host of heaven
Thus fiery fumes doth make their ascent
But the devil keeps ninety eight percent!

You've tried to lead a virtuous life
When you werent dead drunk and wielding a knife
Then all too soon your days are through
Saint Peter will open his book on you
You'll realize counting how your days were spent
That the devil took ninety eight percent!

Saint Magdalena had a lady burned for her sins
Long mourned her man by the shores of Loch Lomond
Little millstones round their neck, children watched him from the lake
A scar ran through his heart (so cold);
A corrupted core like black, rotting wood
Drums of anguish beats for all,
Saint or imp; the trial calls
As foul weeds inch by inch grows o'er the graves of men
Grows o'er the grave of all mankind

Is this the god that Twain so scorned?
In a drunken stupor on the floor
But Satan saw and Satan waited
While God was being kept sedated
And all the sinners he should have saved?
The devil takes ninety eight percent!