Play That Junky Music, White Boy

My mother told me "Don't play with those Gypsies.
They'll run you ragged 'round apple trees."
And always avoid the poison of spiders and sleepwalking vipers that live with it inside.

Show me your arms and I'll show you how much I trust you.
Sure enough, maybe you're sick on that junk but ain't nobody coming to claim you.
Nobody coming to save you.
You got bad blood in those veins there.

Daddy don't leave me here with that lady.
Her club won't have me,
I won't swallow the seed.
She got this black hole - always wants filling.
The scars on her heart leak poison and fear.