Текст The Decemberists – Shankhill Butchers

The Shankill Butchers ride tonight
You better shut your windows tight
They’re sharpening their cleavers and their knives
And taking all their whiskey by the pint

Chorus:
‘Cause everybody knows
If you don’t mind your mother’s words
A wicked wind will blow
Your ribbons from your curls
Everybody moan, everybody shake
The Shankill Butchers wanna catch you
Awake

They used to be just like me and you
They used to be sweet little boys
But something went horribly askew
Now killing is their only source of joy

Chorus

The Shankill Butchers on the rise
They’re waiting till the dead of night
They’re picking at their fingers with their knives
And wiping off their cleavers on their thighs

Chorus

The Shankill Butchers wanna kill you
The Shankill Butchers wanna cut you
The Shankill Butchers wanna catch you
Awake
Awake
Awake
Awake