I tried to run -
but it seems there isn't any escape.
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Quicksand, I'm in it's grip
A-sinkin' 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
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
NOT
You won't see this face again
When you're caught you swing and burn
Down in swaaaaamp laaaaaaaand
So yeah, let's fight. Okay?