The Birth of the Land For a thousand years the Devil crouched On the white hot flags of hell: For a thousand years the Devil cursed The imps that had chained him well; For a thousand years the Devil sulked And planned with his hell-trained brain Of the things he'd do, when his term was thru, And freed from the blistering chain. He'd even the score with the men of earth, And give them back pain for pain, For all of the days he had felt the blaze And the sear of the galling chain. And it came to pass when his time was up And hell's gates were opened wide That all hell rang, and the clinkered imps sang When the Devil passed Outside.