Market Rate of a Soul

[Verse] In the dusty back alley where the neon flickers low, A shadowy deal's afoot, beneath the sickly glow. I asked the man in black, with eyes like a black hole, "What's the going market rate, if I were to sell my soul?" [Verse 2] He laughed a hollow laugh, said, "It's not quite as you think, The Devil's hoarding souls, keeps 'em stacked up in a rink. But there's a secondary market, in between realms and dreams, Where souls get swapped for favors, in the moon's eerie beams." [Chorus] Oh, the market rate of a soul ain't what it used to be, You could trade it for a whiskey shot or immortality. In a world where good and evil get lost in the control, Oh, you gotta wonder what's the going rate for a soul. [Verse 3] I met an old blues singer who traded his for fame, He said the Devil pays in heartbreak and eternal flame. But now his voice, it haunts the jukebox in the night, Singin' 'bout the market rate, in a twilight kinda light. [Verse 4] The crossroads beckon nightly, where deals are made and broke, Where the Devil and his minions play poker, drink and smoke. They trade in human frailty, in secrets never told, All for a piece of paper, signed in blood and gold. [Chorus] Oh, the market rate of a soul ain't what it used to be, You could trade it for a whiskey shot or immortality. In a world where good and evil get lost in the control, Oh, you gotta wonder what's the going rate for a soul.