“Two, three, four
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.”
We started our New Year’s Eve down in Pike Place before heading up to Capitol Hill. It was a very sweet atmosphere.
“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 want to catch you awake.”