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Who Will Survive and What Will be Left of Them?

by Murder By Death

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well i'll take two shots said the devil to the man and layed a little book on the bar well lord knows the devil he only talks shit and only drinks whiskey from the jar and his hands were raw and his eyes were cold and his breath was pure alcohol and the sound of his voice it never got old and he talked and talked and talked through the night kept sippin his shine till the mornin light tumbled in through the shades and as he started to go i put three bullets in his back. well the devil's bleedin' crude oil from a hole in his chest and it's panging on the bedpan drippin' through the bedsheets and all the businessmen are putting pails beneath his wounds and pawnin' the oil at the market. well his heart ain't made of nothin' but piss and vinegar and his boots have trampled more than you would know and his breath has split open the thermometer on the sill it's so fucking cold in here since you brought in the snow. black heart leaking oil in the pan, dealin' insults with his free hand in this hospital bed bleedin' black heart you shot the plan to hell and the apathy ate you up inside like slivers of lead inside your food he's the poison inside you and you eat until you're full and you eat until youre full he lit the fires inside your belly full of medicine and whiskey the aspirin, valium, codiene pills and silver rum someone say a hail mary for this house bless the corners and burn the devil out.
Killbot 2000 03:43
a smell like cigarettes creeps softly through the vents the room is filling up with smoke and little bodies tell all the boys and girls from school to keep breaking all the rules to let their parents know they're individuals datura flakes off from your lips you've lost the swagger in your hips your eyes are turning blue to gray your skin feels soft and sagging down your arms drag across the ground with each step you take and they fall from the jungle gyms and they fall and piss away each night among the sound of bodies crawling round the room i can smell their flesh on everything left in this room chalk and scattered crayons on empty desks for weeks finding clumps of unwashed hair caught between the vents blowing carry their little bodies to the cemetery so gently please don't let their necks crook towards the ground.
i walked the road from tucson to san antonio with the smell of blood on my breath ninety days of sweat and dirt feels like one night when you've got nothing left till there's nothing left to do but die buckshot is my bread and i'll drink whiskey instead of water cause i can't stand to be sober in this place your hands on my face every step of the way tryin' to peel away the pain i'll drink whiskey instead of water.
get on with it put off the fuss you chickenshit get on with it can't you see its time to quit i seen three men hangin' from a sycamore their bodies were stiff as a two by four and their heads were tilted down towards the ground and it ain't been long since they been up there that their bodies turned cold hangin' in that air and they might have froze before that noose got to them old scratch has dealt us a dirty hand he had the look of a saint but the greed of a man and his face was worn and wrinkled like a leather book and if i put this revolver to my head will god turn against me instead of taking pity on a broken man? get on with it.
Intermission 01:14
put the bullet in the barrel take the safety off keep shootin' at the devil in the moonlight put it all on black till your luck comes back we're all waitin' for the end what kind of finish will he send these hands made of splinters keep knockin' back the whiskey sours i've got a few more days to go and i've got another crust of bread somewhere holed up waiting in this is this whats left of the house fill the lamp up with kerosene and toss the rest in the hall just coat the walls and strike the cigarette when you hear them coming we'll pray for them and stay with them till the poor little bastards die hand in hand we'll never forget them when they're gone so keep the girls inside of the little church with their bruised knees on the pews.
i'll leave a trail of fire across this desert just to see the desperation in your eyes you think you've suffered well you ain't seen shit yet the pain won't set in for a long long time i've fought off angels with my hands behind my back i've set the heavens all on fire so sleep in the fallout shelter tonight one and all and wrap the children up real tight and stop the bleedin' before it starts stop the bleedin before it starts.
all the drunks in the alleys are takin' up arms to undo their whole lives in a day if their hearts they don't change before long in the heart of the beast they will lay he tears the wood from the walls to get to us he steals the good from this town so wash the black from your fingertips and fight raise up from the cellars fill the streets with his dead this time.
our fingers are missing they litter the ground grass will never grow near this town again the frames on the walls are crooked and empty these shoulders bend low towards the dirt i made a deal to get us out of this place but i am falling apart with each step i take and as the pieces fall i count them all.
all the kids have run inside grabbed a spot under the stairs they've barricaded all the windows and rigged the doorknobs shut with chairs what are they waiting for they don't know they just keep their fingers crossed and maybe pray to mary or jesus christ i can hear them knocking down the door the wait it is over this bottle is done so we clench our fists and fight our demons there's a girl with a flower pot full of dirt and bullet shells she puts it by her window gives it sunlight restores its health after a month or two the shells start to grow into branches of barbed wire they spread across the walls the windows and the floors and their grip never tires lay low lay low keep your head down lay low lay low listen for the sound of the dusty train that's comin' to sweep us all away i can hear the rails a rattlin' against the hectic fray so set the bone with a cardboard split and strike the nail against the flint and set the fields on fire let the devil come let him come i'll be waitin' for him this time i am stronger now and i can fight it i'll be waitin' at the end of the line at the end of the line.


"Who Will Survive and What Will Be Left of Them?" is the second full length album by Murder By Death. It is an album about the Devil wiping a small town off the map. It was recorded and mixed in nine days at The Clubhouse up in the Catskill Mountains by Daniel Goodwin.


released October 13, 2003


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Murder By Death Louisville, Kentucky


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