The devil moved into my heart

The devil moved into my heart,
And the bastards pitched a tent,
To live in while he builds his fort,
And forgets to pay the rent,

He told me that he plans to stay,
For as long as he desires,
And the nasty little squatter,
Has started a few fires. . .

Why he chose my heart, he said,
Is because its nice and cold,
The flaming pits in hell, he says,
Were getting rather old,

Hes taken up the new position,
Of f**king up my life,
In hell the paperwork was too much,
So hes left it to his wife,

If anybody looks my way,
Or knocks on his new door,
My cunning little Lucifer,
Just bowls them to the floor,

Nobodies allowed to be mine,
And to protect his new found flat,
He kindly printed the slogan,
F**K OFF, on his little red door mat,

Hes not soo bad to have around,
He does keep my emotions at bay,
But theres no way in hell,
That for his services, Ill pay,

He can remain in my heart,
Until he gets bored and leaves,
The experience may even teach me,
How to guard my heart from thieves,

So until Satan gets sick of,
The vast chambers of my heart,
I can enjoy the contemplations,
Of my impending fresh new start. . .