I'd go to hell and back for you
If only you would ask me to
But if I were to travel there
I'd burn my face and singe my hair
I'd roast the bottoms of my feet
and forfeit my soul to the heat
I'd break my heart and lose my mind
My eyes would quit and leave me blind
Beelzebub would ask me why
I'd travel so far just to die
I wouldn't be able to speak
But I'd croak, in a voice so weak,
"Love," I'd say. "A promise made
back when I was not afraid
of death or life or love or pain."
He'd laugh and ask me, "To what gain?"
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