The rhythm is changing unlike the first note that we ever played.
We're searching for the right tempo, still the beat goes on and on,
You won't stop it, move it on to something new, something I care about.
I don't care what they're calling me.

Silly boy, tell me why you came here?
What do you want from me?

I'll do the things that I want to do, the things that I want.
We might use the same chords. We're not singing the same songs.
The Devil sure can make me dance but he will,
But he will never know not now or later, make me fall down on the floor.

Young boy, put down the torches, break the beat.
You were dead and gone, put down the torches, break the beat you're on.

I'll do the things that I want to do, the things that I want.
We might use the same chords. We're not singing the same songs.
The Devil sure can make me dance but he will,
But he will never know not now or later, make me fall down on the floor.

Young boy, put down the torches, can't you see you're on fire.
We'll make it sound like the biggest disaster. Evil motherfuckers die.