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sons of perdition - the legend of saw jones lyrics

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it was way down south where sherman had atlanta all a-burnin’ that his only son was shot and stabbed and k!lled
and to avoid a lynching for having gone injun, that surgeon took a post out on that bl–dy battlefield

well he’s hackin’ and he’s sawin’ and his chisels all are gnawin’
through the grit and through the grime and through the grue
and he’s whistlin’ and he’s grinnin’ and his eyes are both a-spinnin’
and his skull is burnin’ coldly like the moon

well n-body knew how the surgeon’s madness grew like a fungus in the absence of the sun
how he pieced together limbs and how he bayed unholy hymns like his ancient shaman master once had done

well he’s hackin’ and he’s sawin’ and his chisels all are gnawin’
through the grit and through the grime and through the grue
and he’s whistlin’ and he’s grinnin’ and his eyes are both a-spinnin’
and his skull is burnin’ coldly like the moon

when he saw the body jerk he knew his necromancy’d worked; now until the end of days it roams the land
and when it begins to speak, of the grave it always reeks as it vomits up the secrets of the d-mned

well he’s hackin’ and he’s sawin’ and his chisels all are gnawin’
through the grit and through the grime and through the grue
and he’s whistlin’ and he’s grinnin’ and his eyes are both a-spinnin’
and his skull is burnin’ coldly like the moon

then several graves were pillaged and the women of the village met the knife and hook of lonely saw jones
well the men had had enough and got a posse up to snuff him, but all they found was junior sucking marrow from his bones

well he’s hackin’ and he’s sawin’ and his chisels all are gnawin’
through the grit and through the grime and through the grue
and he’s whistlin’ and he’s grinnin’ and his eyes are both a-spinnin’
and his skull is burnin’ coldly like the moon



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