Texty: Slobberbone. Butchers.

Ben grew up to be the butcher not by choice, it's just the lot in life he found
But he makes a decent living, feeds his family and the people of the town
But there's no dreams brought to fruition, just a gradual attrition
The decayed scraps of ambition he once carved by hand
But there's no time for regrets, it's not as bad as it appears
He's got a lucrative career but he never gets the bloodstains off his hands

A killer frequents bars on Ladies' Night with a steely-eyed command
But he ain't out cruising hookers and he ain't no shady looker, he's a charming, handsome man
His voice says 'ladies' but his mind is thinking 'bitches'
But his pitch is just too much for most of them to withstand
He tells them jokes and he gets them all in stitches
And it goes off without hitches 'till he tries to get the bloodstains off his hands

Nothing good comes easy
Isn't that what you would have me to believe
For every positive endeavor there is a dark side we must weather
You will see, yeah you will see

All the coroners and corpsmen and the slaughterhouse foremen
It's just there job five days a week, please try and understand
It's their lot to get through it, they know someone's got to do it
And try not to misconstrue it when they try to wash the bloodstains off their hands

Now she's had seven years of happiness with a boy she's always claimed to have adored
And there's fewer who've been truer but as of late she finds herself a little bored
She tells him she still loves him and has only good thoughts of him
And the times they've had and hopes that it'll help him understand
When she runs her knife straight through him, it's the only way to do them
She's the winner of the game but she'll never get the bloodstains off her hands

In the end, they all fall just the same but she'll never get the bloodstains off her hands

Off her hands