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The Decemberists » Shankhill Butchers
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	The Shankill butchers ride tonight You better shut your windows tight Theyre sharpening their cleavers and their knives And taking all their whisky by the pint Cuz 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 Cuz everybodys knows... (repeat) The shankill butchers on the rise Theyre waiting till the dead of night Theyre picking at their fingers with their knives And wiping off their cleavers on their thighs Cuz everybod knows... (repeat) The shankill butchers wanna kill you The shankill butchers wanna cut you The shankill butchers wanna catch you Awake Awake Awake
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