The Shankill Butchers run tonight
You better shut your windows tight
They're sharpening their cleavers and their knives
And taking all their whiskey by the pint

And everybody knows if you don't
Mind your mother's words
A wicked wind will blow
Your ribbons from your curls
Everybody moan, everybody shake
The Shankill Butchers want to catch you awake

They used to be just like me and you
They used to be sweet little boys
But something went horribly askew
Now killing is their only source of joy

And everybody knows if you don't
Mind your mother's words
A wicked wind will blow
Your ribbons from your curls
Everybody moan, everybody shake
The Shankill Butchers want to catch you awake

The Shankill Butchers run tonight
They're waiting until the dead of the night
They're picking at their fingers with their knives
And whiping off their cleavers on their thighs

And everybody knows if you don't
Mind your mother's words
A wicked wind will blow
Your ribbons from your curls
Everybody moan, everybody shake
The Shankill Butchers want to catch you awake

--

He was a dirty, filthy miscreant, glaring across the room at his long-sworn rival. The teenaged killer mentally went over his plan to have the skinny, dead looking person removed.

A smirk twitched at the corners of his mouth (actually, it was the barest quirking of his lips); there were no miscalculations on his part. Dark gold eyes drifted away from the person he so loathed, to the very thing that helped him kill.

An invaluable tool of destruction; the murderer snickered softly, causing his rival to turn his pit like eyes onto him. The skinny male cocked his head to one side, a delicate eyebrow posed in question.

He didn't say anything, causing the male to shrug a too-thin shoulder. The murderer watched as his rival picked up a silver spoon (and with much dexterity) used the two fingers that kept the utensil posed at his papery white mouth, to scoop a heaping amount of ice cream into his gullet.

A deep frown tugged at the murderer's lip and he turned from the disgusting sight of the skinny male making a glutton out of himself. No matter. The teenaged killer thought with a sigh of relief. That intolerable man will be dead soon.

-

Yeaaah, this was a 'vocabulary paragraph' I had to write for English class. I got a good grade on it! ^^ Haah, I'm writing this in class. Please review.