Enter a house of veiled sins
Sadistic whispers, mocking grins
Tiptoe across the mottled stone
Climb the stair with a murdered groan
Enter a room with mirrors shattered
Walls stained, curtains tattered
Rest on a chair with a muffled sigh
Wait for the remnant of evil gone by

He enters, head-bowed, as if deep in prayer
His skin dark and numb, his clothes threadbare
He turns to the fireplace, puts logs in the ashes
And exposes his back, a cloak of foul gashes
She joins him, her young eyes stagnant and grey
In her single scarred hand she carries a tray
Her flimsy body shredded and raw
Together, they fade as they reach the door
Then, from the window, comes a mournful hum
And from their rotting, creaking slum
A hundred tortured souls emerge
They come in a wailing, heaving surge
Each industrious body broken, bruised
Ghosts used to being used

Throw closed those fettered curtains tattered
Run from the room with mirrors shattered
Rush down the stair with a murdered groan
Clatter across the mottled stone
Leave this house of uncovered sins
Claw at the memories of ragged skins
Run from this place of dead segregation
Run from the evil of the Plantation