The Night Hell Closed Its Doors on Me

I met him at the crossroads — Midnight, no moon, no crowd.

He said, “Boy, you look half-dead.” I said, “I’ve been worse than now.”

Dust on my coat, blood on my name, I didn’t come beggin’, I didn’t come tame. I’ve slept with regret and I’ve drank with pain, Buried my mercy out on the plain.

He lit a match off my shaking hand, Flame didn’t flicker — I didn’t bend. He said, “Every man breaks in the end.” I said, “Not this one. Not again.”

He smiled like sin in a Sunday suit, Said, “All men kneel when I cut ‘em loose.”

I shook hands with the Devil — He looked me in the eye. Said, “You ain’t scared of dyin’?” I said, “I already tried.”

He felt my pulse — it didn’t slow, He searched my soul — found fire below. He thought he’d drag me down that road — I shook hands with the Devil… And he let me go.

Graveyards whisper when I ride through, Crows don’t scatter — they already knew. I’ve walked through hell with a busted jaw, Came back meaner than the law.

He offered gold, he offered fame, Tried to carve his mark in my name. But scars like mine don’t scare or show — They’re proof of places I didn’t fold.

He said, “You’ll crawl before you stand.” I said, “You don’t understand.”

I shook hands with the Devil — Steel grip, steady breath. He said, “All roads end with me.” I said, “Not today, not death.”

He felt my heart — it beat like war, He saw I’d been here once before. He tipped his hat in the smoke below — I shook hands with the Devil… And he let me go.

I ain’t holy. I ain’t saved. I just don’t scare the way I did.

When you’ve buried fear with your own two hands, Even hell feels small as a kid.

I shook hands with the Devil — Didn’t flinch, didn’t bow. He said, “You’re built for burnin’.” I said, “Look at me now.”

No chains on my shadow, No brand on my soul. He opened the gate — But I walked alone.

I shook hands with the Devil… And he let me go.

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