Young Fathers

Young Fathers - Hangman lyrics

rate me

I'm almost there.

I’m almost there,

But not quite

Travelling through the bayou,

Feel the eeriness at sunset

My senses on high alert,

So I say, “Hello! Who’s there?”

Nothing

Like a whistle in the wind

As I move on forward

I hear the leaves rustling

(Leaves rustling)

In a state of grace words

I shouldn't have said are all forgiven

All the days of bad forgotten

But still, to me, revenge

Is a dish best served cold

Like ice cold with an ice pick

And a blindfold

I’m going, going, gone

I said, “I’m going, going, gone”

Time to meet your maker

Time to meet your maker

I’m prowling, growling, howling

[Hook]

Hangman

A bullet a piece for the two of you

(Hey)

For you

Low deep nasty

You chopping me down like the Amazon

No getting past me

Two feet in the air

You wouldn’t last a marathon

Racing with the panther

The maximum price-ah

Curator of the faith-ah

I’m never too late-ah

Don’t shoot the messenger

Shoot the messenger’s mother

Ffucker

[Hook]

Hangman

A bullet a piece for the two of you

For you

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