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Vampires and Werewolves, are out on patrol
Over the hills and through the woods, searchinâ for a lost soul
One will suck you dry, the other âll clean your bones
The sky is growinâ dark, I suggest you just stay home
Cause thereâs things in these olâ backwoods,
Lies will never save
Theyâll all think youâre crazy,
So you take âem to your grave
Yeah youâre crazy if you speak of,
So you take âem⦠to your grave
The devilâs down in Dixie, at this place Iâve never seen
It ainât like heaven or hell, but somewhere in between
And there are angels on the tree tops, snakes down in the dirt
The devilâs dancing around the fire, but I ainât sayinâ a word
Thereâs old men and thereâs moonshine, game of stud by a whiskey still
Thereâs blood and thereâs money, secrets for which theyâd kill
And youâve got pine-tops anâ the riverbeds, ghost by a hanging tree
Things that words just canât describe, you gotta see âem to believe
- Album:
- Rustic Poet