[Spoken intro — Haggard, low, over a lone fiddle; Catgut plays soft beneath] Before the pumpkin, there was the turnip. Before the costume, there was the guise. And before the legend... there was just Jack. Listen. [Verse 1 — Haggard, creeping folk ballad; fiddle weaves beneath] On Samhain night when the veil wears thin — That's "sow-in," friend — the summer's end — The Celts lit bonfires against the cold, Carved hollow turnips, brave and bold, To guide the lost ones safely home, And keep the wicked from their door. [Chorus — full band explodes; Deadbeats in gang vocals] Oh! Stingy Jack! Stingy Jack! Too mean for heaven, hell won't take you back! With a devil's coal in a turnip shell, You'll wander, Jack, 'tween heaven and hell! [Verse 2 — the first trick; Shake's drums pick up] Old Jack the blacksmith, drunk and sly, Could tell a lie that made truth cry, He lured the devil up a tree, Then carved a cross — "you'll not have me!" "Swear you'll never claim my soul," The devil swore — that was Jack's goal. [Verse 3 — the second trick; Slaplick's bass growls low] Next Jack turned the devil to a coin, To buy the ale they both enjoyed, Then slipped it where a silver cross lay — "Ten years of peace!" — he made him say. But years run out like ale runs dry, And even Stingy Jack must die. [Verse 4 — the judgment; sparse and heavy] At heaven's gate they shook their heads — "No room for Jack among the blessed." And hell said, "Jack, we made a vow, We cannot take you anyhow." So between the worlds he's left to roam, With neither heaven, hell, nor home. [Bridge — whispered, then the bone pipes wail; the Bone Piper enters] [whispered] But the devil tossed a burning coal... [bone pipe solo — wild and mournful] Jack hollowed out a turnip root, And lit his way with hell's own fruit — Now every marsh-light, every gleam, Is Stingy Jack, still lost between! [Final chorus — bigger than ever; full gang vocals] Oh! Stingy Jack! Stingy Jack! Too mean for heaven, hell won't take you back! With a devil's coal in a turnip shell, You'll wander, Jack, 'tween heaven and hell! [Outro — Haggard, spoken over fading fiddle] So when you carve your pumpkin face, Remember Jack's old hiding place — The Irish brought the turnip's glow, America gave the pumpkin's show. But every light on Halloween... Is Stingy Jack, still in-between.
