The devil's on my back
I should have never sold my soul
Now I have to run and hide before he throws me in the hole

I'm pretty quick
Stay final champ
We flip the rubbish tip and now it's getting kind of damp

Is that a horn?
Protruding form my limb?
The devil's got me by the neck about to pull the pin

Swipe cheezos off my chin
Better pack me my speedos
Surf it like a fire with all my music heroes

Sorry Mr. Devil I was hungry and needed food
My soul for a casserole
Didn't mean to be rude

The devil shakes his finger
Looks like I'm going down
And Woah!
I'm dropping
Life is stopping
Where the hell's the ground?

Meanwhile up here in heaven
Everything is rather grand
The moment that I passed away
I felt a gentle hand
Pull me up into the light (and)
They handed me some sandwiches
And now I'm riding clouds
More marshmallows than I can handle

And each day we just recline
To the sound of golden trumpets
And if you want for breakfast they've got lovely golden crumpets

We all got given uniforms
Self flying robes of white
And I'm really hanging out for that toga party tonight (woo hoo!)

But hey what's going on
St Peters got by the nose
And he's hurling me below
To that land of fiery woe

Sorry about that champ he said
We made a little error
You should've been condemned to an eternal life of terror!

And how
Last we fell
You can tell
From the smell
There is nothing going on 'round here (there's nothing going on)

So ring the bell
Hide in your shell
You might as well get out of hell
'Cause there's nothing going on 'round here (there's nothing going on)

And how
Last we fell
You can tell
From the smell
There is nothing going on 'round here (there's nothing going on)

So ring the bell
Hide in your shell
You might as well get out of hell
'Cause there's nothing going on 'round here (huzzah!)

Down a hatch I go
Earth to hell
Slip and die
Arms like Peter Garrett screaming "I'll get out alive"

On my ass slumped
In an ergo chair
Administration Underworld
No way this isn't fair

Holding my breath
Stay focussed
Be strong
Standing by the percolator
Is that berserk ...?

Sure is artificial
And man I'm getting pretty testy
Cause I just can't seem to make this cafe bar work correctly.

The Puro lights are flickering
The paper tray is empty
I'm stuck in office hell and man the devil's tryna temp me

With fancy coloured stationary
And tales of secret Santa
And promises of endless hours of elevator banter

I just don't understand her
It's worse than I had feared
Now there's a towering office block
The boss here wears a beard

So Lee go grab your gear
Put down that liquid paper
We've gotta bust it out with another moustache caper

I tried the elevator but it just takes me back there
An Escheresque progression so let's try the fire stairs

And how
Last we fell
You can tell
From the smell
There is nothing going on 'round here (there's nothing going on)

So ring the bell
Hide in your shell
You might as well get out of hell
Because there's nothing going on
'round here (there's nothing going on)

And how
Last we fell
You can tell
By the smell
There is nothing going on 'round here

So ring the bell
Hide in your shell
You might as well get out of hell
'Cause there's nothing going on 'round here

Slow down
Convention
I forgot to mention
We need a bit of cunning to escape saint's dimension

You know he loves detention
So lets dress as politicians
Convince the devil
Sends us back
To execute his mission

Truly Mr. Devil
How you groom politics
And cast the wreck the refugees
And help the children sew their lips

Dish out healthy subsidies
To corporate high rollers
And steal all of the lollies
From the babies in their strollers

You know the time is up
For the treasurer and the veer
I'm looking for replacements tell me why you shouldn't be there

I'd pull those world class billionaires
To ...?
Create fees for degrees for generations of Australians

It seems you two do qualify
Could you assume the position
Go forth and cause damnation
As I give you full permission

So now we're back on Earth
To deliver what we said
The evil's all been done
By a bushy eyebrowed head

And how
Last we fell
You can tell
From the smell
There is nothing going on 'round here

So ring the bell
Hide in your shell
You might as well get out of hell
'Cause there's nothing going on 'round here

And how
Last we fell
You can tell
From the smell
There is nothing going on 'round here

So ring the bell
Hide in your shell
You might as well get out of hell
Because there's nothing going on 'round here

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