[Intro] (Heavy stomp and clap rhythm starts: STOMP-clap... STOMP-clap) (A jagged, dissonant, heavily distorted electric guitar riff cuts in—angular math-rock timing over a deep Chicago blues pocket) (Low, authoritative, gravelly vocal hum, dripping with authentic soul) Mmmmm-hmmmm. Yeah. You crossed the fence line... now you're crossing over. [Verse 1] There's blood on the wire and the chickens are gone, Feathers in the dirt right before the dawn. Coyote in the brush and a fox on the sneak, Think I'm going soft, think the old man is weak. But the sun goes down and the house goes cold, I'm loading up the rifle with a vengeance to hold. Got a thermos of coffee, bitter and black, You stepped on my land, ain't no coming back. [Pre-Chorus] (Music strips back. Just the stomp, clap, and a thick bassline. Vocals snap rhythmically on the off-beat) Sit in the blind. Wait for the rustle. Holdin' my breath. Still every muscle. Sit in the dark. Watch the shadows creep. Ain't nobody out here getting no sleep. [Chorus] (Full band explodes—heavy, driving pocket groove. Vocals are intensely belted with a soulful roar) Oh, the night is dark, but the steel is cold! You come for my flock, you ain't growing old! I'm the king of the dirt, I'm the ghost in the wood! Bringing down the hammer like I promised I would! Yeah, bringing down the hammer like I promised I would! [Verse 2] (Start-stop math-rock rhythm. The guitar and drums play a complex, jagged 7/8 riff. Vocals are rhythmic, matching the stuttering guitar) Three A.M. strikes. The crickets all fade. This is the moment that the reaper was made. Through the thermal glass, two yellow eyes glow, Prowling through the frost, moving deliberate and slow. He thinks he's a phantom, but he's in my sights, I'm the final judge of these country nights. Finger on the trigger, taking up the slack, Squeezing on the iron just to break the devil's back. [Chorus] (Heavy groove returns, huge and distorted) Oh, the night is dark, but the steel is cold! You come for my flock, you ain't growing old! I'm the king of the dirt, I'm the ghost in the wood! Bringing down the hammer like I promised I would! Yeah, bringing down the hammer like I promised I would! [Bridge] (Tempo shifts into chaotic math-rock blues crossover. Stuttering beat. Intensely sung/shouted soulful vocals, gospel-infused wailing) Flash from the muzzle! Thunder in the trees! High-velocity copper brings 'em to their knees! Shoot the sockets empty, watch the skull crack wide! Eyeballs blowing out the back, nowhere to hide! Red mist blossoming against the dark night sky! Brainpan shatters and the gray matter flies! Fox tries to bolt, I track him on the run! Put a hollow-point through him with the heavy gun! Cranial eruption! Bone shards fly! You came for my livestock, now you're gonna die! Spine snaps backwards, drop him dead in the dirt! I told you, midnight thieves, I was bringing the hurt! [Guitar Solo] (A screaming, jagged Chicago blues solo mixed with complex math-rock phrasing. Heavily distorted, playing with odd time signatures, ending with a massive, sustained wailing bend) [Verse 3] (Rhythm drops into a heavy, slow, dragging blues stomp) Smoke curling up from the chamber of the gun. There won't be no howling when we see tomorrow's sun. Four feral bodies laid out in the brush, Nothing left now but a graveyard hush. Drag 'em by the tail to the edge of the pine, Taught 'em all a lesson 'bout crossing my line. [Outro] (Acapella with just the heavy stomp and clap) Yeah. Leave the meat for the buzzards. Leave the blood in the mud. (Intensely sang, raw soulful wail pushed to the absolute limit) I said leave the blood in the mud! (Stomp. Clap.) (One final massive, distorted math-rock guitar chord strikes, sharply cut off by a snare crack) (Dead silence)
