Blood Trophies - Shaman's Harvest

One more trip up to the lake

Fish are rotten in the sun

I slip the knife into these depths

There’s nowhere left, for me to run

Federales on my trail

Someone out there knows my face

I can’t fight the urge no more

I might as well get me a taste

And you know that idle hands are made from devil’s work

And I ain’t done nothing well, keep them from around your throat

With red hands and black deeds

Ain’t no flowers left, only weeds

There’s an RSVP with the law

Damning me

Now my work is almost done

They’ll take my breath but not my deeds

Before they come and dig this grave

They’ll see my face in every dream

And you know that idle hands are made for devil’s work

I ain’t done nothing all day, keep 'em from around your throat

With red hands and black deeds

Ain’t no flowers left, only weeds

There’s an RSVP with the law

Damning me

Red hands feed my rage

By the sound of a thousand horns I come and

Black deeds fuel my resolve for I know that it must be done

The trophies seemed like a stone, seemed like a stone

Driving in halls of Davy Jones

(And you know)

That idle hands are made from devil’s work

And I ain’t done nothing all day, keep 'em from around your throat

With the red hands and black deeds

Ain’t no flowers left, only weeds

There’s an RSVP with the law, damning

RSVP with the law, damning me