| Here comes the night, there go your knees, reaching for the floor. | |
| You say I'll stand guard down here, she stands in the door, | |
| With a pony on the tether pulling cold and sugarcane. | |
| There go your knees. | |
| And there she goes. | |
| She's a-hauling cane like it was gold. | |
| And when she calls upon the dead, | |
| to stand up in her place, | |
| They'll raise the roof up overhead, | |
| and speak out from her face. | |
| And fish jump in her boat all day, | |
| and flog your feet like steel. | |
| There go the dead. | |
| Out through the roof. | |
| She speaks your name, | |
| Like it was proof. | |
| The carnies kick the gravel, | |
| and they wait for you in town, | |
| They pull back on the lever, | |
| and they bring the truck around. | |
| But her fingers on her lips | |
| Are like a penny for a fuse. | |
| And it would take, | |
| All the world to go, | |
| The town will burn, | |
| For all you know. |