[Verse 1]
Mine is a cold house, mine is a cold house
My mama didn't want me on the day I was born
Climbed out of my box, up my silvery chord
On my birth-bed I spoke my first words:
"Let my small hands grow stronger
So I may hammer away your wrongs!"
[Verse 2]
Into a stove man, into a stove man
My mama, she shoved me when I was four years old
The fire it burned my skin tight and crisp
In that stove I cried out my hymn:
"Let my burned skin remind you
And my hammer smithy away your wrongs!"
[Verse 3]
I grabbed my father, I grabbed my mother
And I held them in my arms like an ill-tempered man
I shook out their evil; sin, root and core
Lifted them up and spoke on them more:
"Let my strength strike and smother
Let my hammer break away your wrongs!"
[Bridge]
Your wrongs!
[repeat]
[Verse 3]
Listen:
I held myself up in the cruelest of ways
My tongue; moved over my lips
My hands; burned down to the bone
My legs; swollen ankle to hip
My mind; concentrated and focused
The reckoning was at my front door
Left hand; tattooed with the beast
Right hand; tattooed with the whore
[Outro]
"There's a fire! There's a fire! In the cold house!"
Planks rustle, the windows; they crack
The Lord, the Lord, bequeathed me a gift
I beg my master: "Please, take it back!"