The Mark of Cain

I have dark dreams of that murderous night,

I see the hammer swing and the blood run bright.

Then the sky rolls back in a blinding light

and I cannot hide from the master's sight.

I don't ask to be spared the criminal's shame,

I deserve these bars and the ball and chain,

the hangman's rope and the fire's flame,

for the dark in my heart is the mark of Cain.

I had my good reasons to do the deed

For a lover's treason sews the devil's seed

And revenge is the fire that dragon breathes

and murder's the madness that hatred breeds.

Come this very morning when the rooster crows,

only the preacher will pray for my soul.

They'll hang me high and bury me low in a Potter's Field

where the cold wind blows.