Who?

What do I want with my life now you're gone?
I want your ghost gone.
What do I want with this wood now that it's sawn?
I want the stump gone,
And the land it grew on.

Oh Black Lagoon, you have my shoe
So I go shoeless.
I go muddy crawling through.
What do I want with my home now that I'm gone?
I want the shades drawn
And the overgrown lawn.
I would gladly abandon a limb in the trap's jaw,

Just as long as I crawl on
With no trapper to call on.
Thorough and true, by stem and root,
I know no-one now.
Now I say "who?"