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