Shankill 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

'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 want to catch you awake

They used to be just like me and you

The 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 want to catch you awake

The Shankill Butchers on the rise

They're waiting 'til 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 want to catch you

The Shankill Butchers want to cut you

The Shankill Butchers want to catch you awake