The Widow's Bane - Old Bayou lyrics

There's a mad puppeteer Toiling in the swamp, In a shack made of human bones And the puppets that he haunts; They hang like crucifixions from their fraying threads. But unlike the saints, these ones aren't dead. There's an alligator older than the French-Canadian War. And every harvest moon he knocks at the puppet master's door. The puppet master feeds him on the blood of girls and boys. The gator's eyes are beating hearts; his scales are broken toys. Down in the old Bayou Down in the old Bayou Down where nightmares come true, in the old Bayou Down in the old Bayou Locked in cold marionettes, Are those lured by his sweet voodoo. He severs the soul from the flesh. Don't get lost, my child, walkin' in the old Bayou.