The devil walked the woods this morning Drifting through the mist Pleased with his deeds He sighed a serpents hiss
The barren grounds and snowless winters brought him a wry smile Decayed remains of long dead spruce were strewn about piles He strode aside the oil-sheen dressed woodland lake shores
The songless birds lay rotten Silent for ever more The level fields of decaying stumps He smiled at his work And when he'd gloated long enough He made a left hand-turn To head for home and rest his bones By fires gentle light And dream of wastelands putrescent Destroyed by his sight
He cursed the evening loon calls that rose him from his sleep And the joyous side of autumn meek He could never seek He stumbled up the cobble stones to his cabin door When inside kicked off his boots all muddied on the floor Passed the mirror in the hall A familiar sight to see A face he'd known for oh so long And the reflection it was me
