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