Still now pretty in the water
The only sound the stir of the trees
Must be days are getting shorter
Nightfall in the chill of the breeze
Two snakes sitting on a sandbar
Forked tongues set to do as they please
All on a butterfly in a bell jar
Proving bad things come in threes
In time a catcher would have caught her
In spite of what the truth-sayer sees
Preacher man searching for his daughter
Wading in sin right up to his knees
