The Killing Season - Mark Lanegan Band

The killing season it’s beginning

I feel your hands around my throat

You either lose, or come up winnings

I wear my old grey overcoat

Now paint it mary, paint it black

Tonight they hang Jerry

Tonight they hang Jack

When this killing season’s over

I’ll never say your name again

And if I smell the perfume of, the perfume of your blood

I know it’s just the incense, incense of my drug

Do you hear the children speaking backwards?

Their bodies float above the bed

Who sings a song that isn’t sung

My soul’s in traction

Cops and criminals, and all that crawl get into action

Smelling the incense of, the perfume of your blood

Smelling the incense of, the perfume of my drug

The brick and mortar start to pound

A powder in the air like anthrax

Brought six white horses down

When this cold dark night is over

There ain’t nobody left around

Now paint it mary, paint it black

Tonight they hang Jerry

Tonight they hang Jack

And when this fever dream has ended

I’ll never come this way again

The killing season, it’s beginning

Skeletal hands are on my throat

Somebody will lose somebody’s winnings

I wear my old grey overcoat

I wear my old grey overcoat