Two, three, four...
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The Shankill butchers ride tonight
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You better shut your windows tight
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They're sharpening their cleavers and their knives
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And taking all their whiskey by the pint
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'Cause everybody knows
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If you don't mind your mother's words
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A wicked wind will blow
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Your ribbons from your curls
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Everybody moan, everybody shake,
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The Shankill butchers wanna catch you
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Awake
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They used to be just like me and you
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They used to be sweet little boys
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But something went horribly askew
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Now killing is their only source of joy
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'Cause everybody knows...
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(repeat)
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The Shankill butchers on the rise
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They're waiting till the dead of night
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They're picking at their fingers with their knives
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And wiping off their cleavers on their thighs
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'Cause everybody knows...
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(repeat)
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The Shankill butchers wanna catch you
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The Shankill butchers wanna cut you
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The Shankill butchers wanna catch you
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Awake
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Awake
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Awake
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Awake
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-----------------
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Shankhill Butchers
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The Decemberists |