A Fable with no Moral

I went and sold my soul, so I could pay the rent,

I waited by the mail, but the check was never sent.
So I called the devil up, but I just got his machine.
I left an angry message, said I gotta have the green.

I didn’t give up then, but I made another plan.
If Satan didn’t want my soul, I’d sell it to the man.
I tried to find his number, but it wasn’t in the book.
I’d get the money anyhow, no matter what it took.
No matter what it took…

A paragon of virtue,
At least I’m not a thief.
It’s so easily justified,
But always leads to grief.

So I got myself some cardboard, and I made myself a sign,
To sell my soul below the market rate was my design.
I went down to the street, and I tried to make the deal.
A land rover drove right by with Satan at the wheel.

He saw what I was doing and said, “That’s not yours to sell.
You’ll get your check tomorrow, and I’ll see you down in Hell.
So you’d better spend it well.


-by Quasi from Field Studies