Tom bodett isn't here, but we'll leave the light on for ya

The devil's light is always on,
the wicked never sleep-
they serve their time eternally
to sow the fields they reap-
some say that repetition
is the promise that is kept-
some say it's fire stoked to dry
the tears they never wept.

the angels, on the other hand
they need not close their eyes-
for them eternal life was never
built on baneful vie's-
some say they sing and love they give
they fly on prayer and faith-
some say a righteous wrath they deal
while donning grins of wraiths

and if it's true, what has been said,
i fear we'll never know-
while angels need not rest their back
the devil's light still glows
and while it glows the angels watch
the moth's drawn fly a ring-
they sit outside the doors of hell,
the devil's front porch swing.