image The Devil Needs You For His Squeeze It happened right here, here in this room, she wrapped her legs around me. On a rusty nail-bed with a wreath on the wall, that’s exactly how the lynch-mob found me. And they bore me shoulder-high, embalmed in J & D, past the railway arches and the gypsy-camp to the old slate quarry….And a sickly-looking boy in a Marcel wave was squinting to read out the sentence. There was an angel in an armband and a pig tied to a tree and a whole lot of talk of repentance. I heard an unlatched gate banging in the breeze, then somebody kicked the stool away and they’re hanging off my knees…. I’m in an unmarked grave up by the Cock o’ The North, and I’m kind of enjoying the silence. But the Devil prods me with his toasting-fork, says “Hey, remember the terms of our alliance?”. And it’s 4am and raining and I’m hunting for my good luck charms and there’s a leathery pair of pterodactyl’s wings sprouting from my arms …. And you’re tossing and turning in your negligée, I guess you’re having a nightmare. I’ve got no head for heights but my arse is on the line, so when you wake up at last I’m sitting right there. And I sweep you off like Superman would sweep off Lois Lane. And I’m sorry but Satan needs you for his squeeze if I’m to walk the earth again …. The Devil’s in his workshop in a pinstripe suit, a wig and some rimless glasses. There’s a posse of women with a wiggle in their walk and he’s applying his brand to their arses. And Satan hums a bittersweet song as you and I say our goodbyes, and I wake up naked in a lock-up garage with a bellyful of butterflies …. I got a big old house with stuffed birds on the walls and real live wolves in the garden. And not a day goes by when I don’t think of you and if I let you down I beg your pardon. I got your photo on the mantelpiece among childhood heroes of mine. And me and my ventriloquist’s dummy, oh we talk about you all the time …. [ Back ]