Sweet baby boy,
Rattlesnake in his hand,
Grinnin' from the bottom
Of the cradle I stand
Like a proud father would,
Who slipped into fatherhood like a trance.
If a proud father could,
He would give his boy a fighting chance.
I'm feelin' scared;
I can't remember what for.
Think there's somethin' dark
Movin' under the floor.
My boy's outta snakes
And he's hungry for more.
But my bones were set broken at birth,
So I can't move to the door.
I'm beggin' him, "Please son, behave.
I'm doin' all I can to save
All our ancestors gave.
Can't you hear them calling you from the grave?"
Tears are wellin' up
Like tar in his eyes.
My blood is runnin' thick
As the fog outside.
There's a ghost in the corner
And she's tellin' me to run and hide.
My boy's eyes are red now
And he's growin' in size.
I recall the crooked sound
Of a music box by my bed;
And the demons in my daddy's eyes
That his crooked smile hid.
I can see the snakes
Movin' underneath his skin.
I guess I was Faust then;
But now I'm him--but now I'm him
I wake to the whispers
Of my boys forked tongue.
There's a chill in the room
Makin' the spiders run.
There's a pause--like a silent space--
After you co*k a gun.
I'm thinkin' to myself,
"My God, what have I done?"
I'm askin' him, "Son, do you think that you're brave
To cast out all that I gave?
Well, you can't k** the slaves
Because we'll be callin' you from the grave.
We're your Ancestral Ray."