He don't always come at midnight, burning red and talking sin. He knows how to play it just right! Sleek along and brings you roses. He's always got the words to say, just enough so you don't notice that you ain't nothing but his prey! Think you know just where to find him? High atop his fiery throne? It's the places you ain't looking, That he likes to make his home! Might be the sharpest dressed on Sunday, sing the loudest in the choir! By the time it gets to Monday, he had his hand back in the fire!