Number Nine - The Twilight Singers

Devil, sweet talking fly on the wall

Blackberry belle of the ball

Just like you told me I’m going to crawl

You trouble me and I ain’t myself any more

I’m crawling around like a whore

And you love me there on the floor

Now come on, boy

Don’t be such a baby

And maybe I’ll bail you out

One more time

You got number nine

Staring at you

Get back, boy

Or I’ll make you blind

You fucker, this here’s where we settle up

One last sweet drink from you cup

Hand it over, slowly, I’m gone

Now come on, boy

Don’t be such a baby

And maybe I’ll sell you out

One more time

You at the foot of the master

I’m faster

But I’m going to take my time

And I’m going to make you blind

I’m going to make you blind

I’m going to make you blind

And I’m going to make you blind

Devil, sweet talking fly on the wall

Blackberry belle of the ball

Just like you told me I’m going to crawl

I’m going to make you blind