This song is written as the perspective of the boys in the street, as a whole, and what path they are going to choose as they get older and grow into men. (This is why the music video takes place in an orphanage.) The seen, and unseen collective suffering is imbedded in the boys’ mind, consciously or subconsciously, and is haunting them. Which path will the boys choose? Issac Hayes is the voice of reason, maybe God, the angel on his shoulder, or the voice of his forefathers from beyond the grave who can see the big picture and are pleading with the boys not to continue the violence and pattern of killing their brothers, but to rise above. The most beautiful song and has so many levels. Racism towards African Americans in America would not exist if everyone sat down and listened to this song and understood the history behind the words. The power, fear, pleading in RZA and Ghostface voices are genuine and powerful. Issac Hayes’ strong voice makes the perfect strong father figure, who is possibly from beyond the grave.
With this knife I cut the cake
Who will be my bride today?
Sweet Fanny Adams
Watch her climb the step ladder
A present from her stepfather
Sweet Fanny Adams
See her reaching out & stripping down the muslin drapes
A cover for her nakedness, a veil for her face
With curtains for your wedding dress
You must take your place amongst
The proper little madams
& now, because I love you,
I must take my place too
Amongst the murderers, the hope of women
Death in every new beginning
I must take this woman for my sentence of life
& she must take my knife
I will buy a ring of gold
& you will practice birth control
Sweet Fanny Adams
Like a puppet on a string
Of estrogen & progesterone
Sweet Fanny Adams
This is where your misery starts, this is where your mystery stops
We rent a television to replace Pandora's Box
& I will wear a business face
And you will learn your proper place
From those proper little madams
& in my world of cut & thrust
I will learn that my place
My place must
Be with the murderers, the hope of women
Death in every new beginning
I must take this woman for my sentence of life
& she must take my knife
In my pipe & slippers
Do I look like Jack The Ripper?
Sweet Fanny Adams
But I poisoned you with every kiss
& smothered you with domestic bliss
Sweet Fanny Adams
Underneath the suntan from the sun lamp that we bought
Your face is paler than the pale face of a corpse
& from the seventh floor of our bungalow
You flung yourself down to where they stood below
Those proper little madams
But in white hair, wrinkles & false teeth
I escape detection by the police
One of the murderers, the hope of women
Death in every new beginning
I must take this woman for my sentence of life
& she must take my knife
Who will be my bride today?
Sweet Fanny Adams
Watch her climb the step ladder
A present from her stepfather
Sweet Fanny Adams
See her reaching out & stripping down the muslin drapes
A cover for her nakedness, a veil for her face
With curtains for your wedding dress
You must take your place amongst
The proper little madams
& now, because I love you,
I must take my place too
Amongst the murderers, the hope of women
Death in every new beginning
I must take this woman for my sentence of life
& she must take my knife
I will buy a ring of gold
& you will practice birth control
Sweet Fanny Adams
Like a puppet on a string
Of estrogen & progesterone
Sweet Fanny Adams
This is where your misery starts, this is where your mystery stops
We rent a television to replace Pandora's Box
& I will wear a business face
And you will learn your proper place
From those proper little madams
& in my world of cut & thrust
I will learn that my place
My place must
Be with the murderers, the hope of women
Death in every new beginning
I must take this woman for my sentence of life
& she must take my knife
In my pipe & slippers
Do I look like Jack The Ripper?
Sweet Fanny Adams
But I poisoned you with every kiss
& smothered you with domestic bliss
Sweet Fanny Adams
Underneath the suntan from the sun lamp that we bought
Your face is paler than the pale face of a corpse
& from the seventh floor of our bungalow
You flung yourself down to where they stood below
Those proper little madams
But in white hair, wrinkles & false teeth
I escape detection by the police
One of the murderers, the hope of women
Death in every new beginning
I must take this woman for my sentence of life
& she must take my knife
Lyrics submitted by vchamberlain
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