[Intro – Whispered Voices] Don't go down that hollow after sundown... Our family made a bargain. And bargains made in these mountains don't die with the people who make 'em. [Verse 1] Way up past the county line where the blacktop disappears There's a road between the ridges that's been feared for generations Granddaddy said, “Don't take it.” Mama said, “Don't ask why.” But every firstborn in our family learns the same damn lie They tell you we're unlucky They tell you we're cursed They never tell you why the youngest always disappears first Back in 1891 My great-great-grandfather came Found a hollow full of timber And a stone without a name He wanted land He wanted wealth Wanted his bloodline to survive So he knelt beside that stone And promised what it asked him for in kind One child. Every generation. No exceptions. [Pre-Chorus] And every twenty-five years When the bloodline brought a son The family gathered in the kitchen And decided who would be the one They called it “going away.” They called it “God's will.” But every missing child was feeding Something underneath the hill. [Chorus] The hollow knows my name The mountain knows my sin My family made a bargain And I'm the payment coming in The trees know where I've been The creek remembers blood We bought this land with someone's life— And the mountain wants another one. [Verse 2] Found the family Bible hidden underneath my mother's bed Pages blackened around the names of all the children dead Every generation had one name scratched away And every twenty-five years Another child was taken away Then I found my father's name. Right beside mine. He wasn't lost. He wasn't murdered. He was the offering. Daddy tried to break the covenant Tried to take me and run But the family elders stopped him Said, “The bargain must be done.” They chained him to the porch And told him not to interfere Then they drove me up the mountain When I was barely old enough to fear I remember that night. I remember the stone. I remember Mama crying while they left me there alone. [Chorus] The hollow knows my name The mountain knows my sin My family made a bargain And I'm the payment coming in The trees know where I've been The creek remembers blood We bought this land with someone's life— And the mountain wants another one. [Verse 3] Now I'm standing by the altar Where my ancestors knelt And the stones around me whisper Every secret they ever held “Your blood built this family.” “Your blood bought this ground.” “Your blood kept the mountain sleeping.” “Now your blood comes back around.” I see Grandpa in the shadows See my father beside the trees Every sacrificed descendant Standing silently They don't look angry. They look tired. And my daddy says: “Son, you can end it.” I ask him how. He points toward the family cemetery. “Don't give it another child.” [Bridge – Spoken / Whispered] Because that's the trick. The curse was never the mountain. The curse was us. Generation after generation, we chose one child to save the rest. We called it tradition. We called it survival. We called it anything... except what it really was. [Final Verse] So I walked back down the mountain With the family Bible in my hand Burned the pages bearing names Burned the deed to all the land The cabin caught behind me And the cemetery caught the flame Every stone began to crack apart Every ancestor screaming my name Then the mountain started shaking And the hollow opened wide I heard that ancient thing beneath us Tell me: “You can run... but your bloodline can't hide.” I looked into that darkness And I finally understood: The curse survives through sacrifice. So I ended it for good. No more children disappearing. No more families lying. No more offerings to the mountain. Let the damn thing wake. [Final Chorus] The hollow knows my name The mountain knows my sin My family made a bargain But I'm the one who ends it The trees know where I've been The creek remembers blood We bought this land with someone's life— But I ain't giving it another one. The hollow knows my name But it don't own me now The curse was handed down for generations I'm breaking it here and now Let the mountain take the house Let the forest take the road Let the dead reclaim their names— But my children won't be owed. [Outro – Whispered Voices] One hundred thirty-five years... One child every generation... Until somebody finally said: “No.” The mountain went silent. And for the first time... the hollow didn't know his name.
