The Shankill Butchers - The Decemberists (Lyrics)

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.
'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.
'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.

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.
'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,
The Shankill butchers wanna cut you,
The Shankill butchers wanna catch you,
Awake.
Awake.
Awake.
Awake.