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Quicksand, I'm in it's grip Quicksand, I'm in it's grip A sinken in the mud Patron saint of the bog They come with boots of blood With pitchfork and with club And they're chantin' out my name And they got doggies screamin' on a chain Lucy, I'll love you till the end They hunt me like a dog Down in swamp land So come my executioner Come my bounty hunter Come my county killers I cannot run no more I cannot run no more I cannot run no more No, I can't, no Oh, Lucy, you won't see this face again When I caught you swing and burn Down in swamp land The trees are veiled in fog The trees are veiled in fog Like so many jilted brides Hey and now they're all breakin down and cryin' Splashing tears upon my face Splashing tears cold upon my face And they smell of gasoline, I scream Lucy, you made a sinner right out of me And now I'm burnin' like a saint Down in swamp land So come my executioner Come my bounty hunter Come my county killers I cannot run no more I cannot run no more I cannot run no more I cannot run no more No, I can't Down in swamp land