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King of the Gutters, Prince of the Dogs - Murder By Death



     
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King of the Gutters, Prince of the Dogs Lyrics


I traveled so long, traveled so long
'Til I was cold, cold as stone
My whiskers are gray, they reach to the ground
My bird's bones make a hollow soundI been lost somewhere
In the fabric of a world that's going threadbare
I been down in the gutters without a careI been hunted maligned since before your time
I been stoned, I been thrown
To the wolves, to the wolves
I been starved down to skin and boneI been lost somewhere
In the fabric of a world that's going threadbare
I been down in the gutters without a careThrow me a bone, feed me a line
Pour a hard drink for harder times
I'm the king of the gutters, the prince of the dogs
One or the other, a ship lost in the fogThe moon pulls the sea and our eyes to the ground
Our feet pound loud but there's no one around
The star of the night, the room fills with light
The sky makes a deafening soundThrow me a bone, feed me a line
Pour a hard drink for harder times

I'm the king of the gutters, the prince of the dogs
One or the other, a ship lost in the fogNothing can touch me, nothing can touch me
No force, no sound
Nothing can touch me, nothing can touch me
No force, no soundI'm the king of the gutters, the prince of the dogs
I'm the king of the gutters, the prince of the dogs
I'm the king of the gutters, the prince of the dogs

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Indiana's Murder by Death (formerly known as Little Joe Gould) layers the vocal sounds of an old saloon with the haunting strings of a Hungarian folk dance and the hard driving rhythms of pure rock 'n' roll, producing what Stuff magazine has called "lush, orchestrated songs," somehow simultaneously reminiscent of Johnny Cash and Radiohead. Added to that thick and intriguing sound are a series of dark and ironic lyrics, combining the mood and tone of Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds with the narrative force of The Decemberists or a short story by Nathaniel Hawthorne.

Read more about Murder by Death on Last.fm.


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Murder By Death