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let me feed you lies

while i stare into your black coal eyes

do you love it when i can’t speak?

so you don’t have to hear me lie

sippin’ on my soul like it’s the holy grail

careful what you wish for

i know you want heaven

but i can only give you hell

i think you like me out of focus

and i think i like you in this moment

stare into my angel eyes

like you’re seeing paradise

are you calling me color blind?

cuz i only see a black hole

now you’re seeing neon ligths

maybe i’m just out of my mind

do you love these polar lights?

are you hungry for eternal lies?

stare into my devil eyes

are you still seeing paradise?

maybe you’re the one that’s color blind?

asking me to turn water to wine

you got me staring in your black coal eyes

do you love it when i feed you lies?

can we go to your paradise?

will there be sleepless nights?

silhouettes in the neon lights?

please take me to your paradise

i promise i won’t tell no lies

cuz you’re the same as me -

just a devil in disguise.


‘i got inspired while listening to “devil’s in the backseat” by lostboycrow’

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finally got around to finishing K and Nocturnal

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My October Patreon stickers! I love angel/devil couple themes so I made these cuties with my ocs Skye and Eli! I’m still very proud of how they came out <3

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The darkling,

The son of dark,

Steps out

When the sun drowns

He sings

The darkest verse

And lures in

The ones who have

A thirst for mirk

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Devil minus the evil just leaves ’d’. Something to think about

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A whole turkey is boned, then stuffed with a sweet and savory chicken stuffing flavored with dried raisins, currents, dried cherries, and hard apple cider. The roasted turkey is simple to carve into beautiful slices at the table.

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The blues musician who actually seems to have claimed to have gone to the crossroads and performed a ritual to receive supernatural guitar prowess was TOMMY Johnson, not Robert Johnson, who was no relation. He’s worth quoting:

“If you want to learn how to make songs yourself, you take your guitar and you go to where the road crosses that way, where a crossroads is. Get there, be sure to get there just a little ‘fore 12 that night so you know you’ll be there. You have your guitar and be playing a piece there by yourself…A big black man will walk up there and take your guitar and he’ll tune it. And then he’ll play a piece and hand it back to you. That’s the way I learned to play anything I want.”

Note that Tommy Johnson makes no reference to “the Devil” or mention selling his soul. This anecdote could simply be Johnson attempting to promote himself by creating a sinister persona, but there’s something more interesting going on here.

There was a crossroads ritual, apparently fairly widespread amongst practitioners of voodoo and hoodoo, that was worked to invoke supernatural aid in learning a skill. Harry Middleton Hyatt, a folklorist and Anglican clergyman, documented many varied accounts of the, for lack of a better term, “crossroads ritual,” which his informants had allegedly used to learn all kinds of skills. (Hyatt’s research was conducted between 1936 and 1940, with supplementary interviews in 1970. So this gives us good, though probably somewhat biased, insight into folkloric and magical beliefs in Robert & Tommy Johnson’s era.) To keep this post from getting overly long, the short version is: go to the crossroads at a certain time, meet a supernatural benefactor, learn a skill. Some of his informants called said supernatural benefactor “a/the devil,” but this is an example of what happens when pre-Christian mythology meets Christian mythology. This figure would not have been THE Devil, but a devil; that is, a spirit. The idea of “selling yourself to the Devil” in some kind of Faustian bargain is foreign to these beliefs.

One of Hyatt’s informants, who claimed to have performed the ritual to learn the guitar, had this to say. Note Hyatt’s (potentially offensive) attempt to transcribe his informant’s dialect:

“Well, people say yo’ meet de devil, but tell de truth 'bout de thing, ah don’t know if it wus de devil or not. It wus a black something othah jes’ 'bout dat high – sorta mind me of a dog. He had han’s lak a dog when ah fus’ seen him but fust and last his han’ wus jes’ lak mine only it wus jes’ as hot as could be.”

Who knows if Tommy Johnson was a true believer or (like many heavy metal musicians more recently) was simply trying to create a sinister and mystical aura around himself.

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