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the butcher of mercy street - the celestial parlour orchestra lyrics

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*i sold knives to boys with dead*end eyes,*
*taught them how to carve prayers from lies.*
*my hands stink of blood and grace—*
*mercy’s a language this town erases.*

*now they call me king of the unmarked graves,*
*my crown’s a bullet, my scepter’s a shiv.*
*i built this h*ll with the bones i saved—*
*the butcher’s the saint when the law won’t forgive.*

*the widow spits curses, her rent’s overdue,*
*her son’s my best thief, her god’s my tattoo.*
*the neon cross fl!ckers above the p*wn shop door—*
*”salvation’s a debt, and i’m the f*cking loan officer.”*

*now they call me king of the unmarked graves,*
*my crown’s a bullet, my scepter’s a shiv.*
*i built this h*ll with the bones i saved—*
*the butcher’s the saint when the law won’t forgive.*

*the cop’s new boots track mud on my floor,*
*his badge shines like the sh*t i ignore.*
*he whispers, “we’re twins in different suits—*
*you k!ll for the streets. i k!ll for the statutes.”*

*the tenements hum my lullaby of rust,*
*their pipes bleed the hymns of the dust.*
*i’ll die as i lived: half wolf, half shrine—*
*the butcher, the savior, the fault line.*

- the celestial parlour orchestra lyrics

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