Red hooded figures in farmers boots
Walking out of three different churches
Driving black ribboned tractors on cobblestone roads
Listening to down home dirges.
Their faces are glowing with phosphorus light
They stand and they sing deep into the night
Præy on
Præy on little rabbits, pray on.
Præy on little rabbits, pray on.
Præy on little rabbits, pray on.
The old woman pointing with bible in hand
At the bonfire down in the hollow
There are candles to burn and old ones to call
And more than just moonshine to swallow
The star up above is shining so bright
They stand and they sing deep into the night
Præy on...
The words they say are much older than stone
And leaves their minds twisted and muddy
When the morning comes they will all go home
Except the one whose night ended so bloody
They all played their part without any fight
They stand and they sing deep into the night
Præy on...
Copyright 2014 Jeremy Rodgers