I planted corn on a stony hill Where the ground is hard and the air is still

Sweated blood just to make it grow But the roots run deep in the darkness below

Crow on a fence post watching me Knowing things that I can't see

Sky turned green like a bruised-up pear And the wind carries scents of the devil's share

One for the silo, two for the crow Three for the river where the black waters flow

Don't count your harvests, don't say a prayer The last of the crop is the devil's share

Shadows stretch out across the cabin floor Something's scratching at the cellar door

Lock is rusted and the wood is thin Whatever is waiting, it wants to come in

My hands are calloused, my back is bent Every last copper has a long been spent

Moon hangs low with a jagged tear Shining down light on the devil's share

He don't take money, no silver, no gold He don't take pity or stories you told

He comes for the marrow, he comes for the bone He comes when you think you are standing alone

One for the silo, two for the crow Three for the river where the black waters flow

Don't count your harvests, don't say a prayer The last of the crop is the devil's share

Leave it on the porch, don't look back