The Devil Counts My Scars

Every mile I rode cut another line, On my skin, on my soul, on the hands of time. The fire didn’t kill me, it just burned me true, Now the Devil keeps the tally — and he’s counting too.

The Devil counts my scars, one by one, Marks the night, forgets the sun. Every wound’s a prayer that never heals, Every shadow knows how the silence feels.

I’ve carried bullets, I’ve carried sins, Wore the weight of every place I’ve been. The preacher said grace, but I felt none — I was born already damned, my song begun.

The Devil counts my scars, one by one, Marks the night, forgets the sun. Every wound’s a prayer that never heals, Every shadow knows how the silence feels.

Some men drink to forget their face, I drink to remember the fall from grace. And when my bones turn black as tar, I’ll know the Devil finished counting scars.

The Devil counts my scars, one by one, No forgiveness when the deal is done. Every wound I wear, the fire sealed, Every scar’s a truth I was forced to yield.

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