Kentucky snow And my bones are fairly shaken In the winter and its waking On the land I'm cultivating And I watch a detonation of crows Out of the dogwood Where the leaves all quit attempting And the witchhazel is empty Just like everything is dead Exempting me, out in the cold Cold Cold Well there he lay Like the devil was a cropper On my family's farming proper Tiny bones and head of copper in the loam Shivering to death He wasn't moving And I knew the antidote Pity rose up in my throat And so I put him in my coat to get him warm And carry him back home Well why should I oversimplify? It's good to be alive So logically, all living things are good If not misunderstood And I will not play God Arbitrating, arrogantly designating who should live Well then it happened I bet you already guessed When I called the cursed blessed He sank his fangs into my chest and through my shirt And put his venom in my veins As I was dying, well I thought it rather fitting That my heart produced the pity And that's the spot the snake bit me And I know Nature doesn't want changed Well I should have compromised I didn't realize the demon at my doorstep But with one slash of Sheol's knife, He cut down the tree of life And stacked the wood for kindling and the laughter That I'm sure will follow after this life