I must be the devil's daughter What a dark father to dwell in me I must be the devil's daughter Such a dark father to dwell in me
You can see it in my swagger In the palmist's lines of my hands And my lips that bud like daggers
When I bloom you come a-crawlin' When I bloom you come a-crawlin'
And I think I'm on a mission Should I then shield my eyes From the furtive looks of babes-in-arms And the cries of their poor mothers
When I bloom you come a-crawlin' When I bloom you come a-crawlin'
And my mama never speaks of him Except when she's drunk and desperate And even then it's just a brief retelling Of his rough love and abandonment
And the crowd like waters parted He headed straight toward her And aimed to finish what he started
And I think, like him, I have to roam With what each night delivers It's time to make my drive be known:
When I bloom you come a-crawlin' When I bloom you come a-crawlin'
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