words and music by Joe Jackson)



It happened one night at three in the morning

The devil appeared in my studio room

And he said I'm your pal and I'll make you a deal

Blow away all your struggle and take your soul for a toy



After rubbing my eyes I looked at around me

At the half-finished drivel I'd worked on for days

And I told him my dream was to live for all time

In some perfect refrain like the man who wrote Danny Boy



And I said if you're real, then I'll ask you a question

While most of us turn into ashes or dust

Just you and that other guy go on forever

But who writes the history and who do I trust?



He gave me a wink and he said it was funny

How mortals would pour all their blood, sweat and tears

Onto tape, onto paper or into the air

To be lost and forgotten outside of his kind employ



Then I thought I could hear a great sound in the distance

Of whiskey-soaked singing and laughter and cheers

And they're saying that song could bring tears to a glass eye

So pass me the papers, I'll sign them in blood



And the smell of the brimstone was turned into greasepaint

And the roar of the crowd like the furies of hell

And I hear the applause and I hear the bells ringing

And the sound of a woman's voice from the next room



Saying, come to me now, come lay down beside me

Whatever you're doing you're too going to see

You can't hold onto shadows, no more than to years

So be glad for the pleasures we're young enough to enjoy



So maybe I'm drunk or maybe a liar

Or maybe we're all living inside a dream

You can say what you like, when I'm gone then you'll see

I'll be down in the dark, down underground

With Shakespeare and Bach and the man who wrote Danny Boy



(C) 1994 Pokazuka Ltd. (ASCAP