Lyrics
He watches.
I felt him there behind the smoke, Counting men the fire took. Marking names in ash and bone — Waiting for me to fold.
He leaned close, but didn’t touch, Said, “Some bend easy… some too much.” His voice like gravel in a grave — Soft when he behaves.
He don’t waste his chain On iron veins.
The Devil don’t collect What he can’t break. He don’t claim the ones Who don’t shake.
He don’t waste his hand On stubborn stone. If you’re still standing — You’re your own.
The Devil don’t collect What he can’t break.
I’ve seen him drag men by regret, Seen him smile when they forget. Seen him whisper sweet release — Seen him feast.
But when he looked me in the eye, There wasn’t hunger — there was why. Like he knew the kind of man He couldn’t command.
He don’t fear fire. He fears refusal.
The Devil don’t collect What he can’t break. He don’t brand the souls That won’t take.
He don’t lock the doors On open ground. If you don’t kneel — You don’t get bound.
The Devil don’t collect What he can’t break.
I ain’t saved. I ain’t free.
I just don’t belong To anything.
The Devil don’t collect What he can’t break. He don’t hunt wolves That won’t shake.
He passed me by — Left me alone. Some men are fire. Some are stone.
The Devil don’t collect What he can’t break.
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Dark Country Artists
About this song
Dark modern Americana with cinematic outlaw intensity. Deep male vocal
License
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