American Murder Song - A Body on the Step lyrics

Put on your Sundays, we’re gonna dig a hole
Put on your Sundays, we’re gonna dig a hole
Was a body, was a body, on the chapel step
Was a body, was a body, on the chapel step
Someone left it there broken with a sack for a head
A body on the step and lies all about
Was a body, was a body, on the chapel step
Was a body, was a body, on the chapel step
Put on your Sundays, we’re gonna dig a hole
Put on your Sundays, we’re gonna dig a hole
Was a pastor, was a pastor, who done found it there
Was a pastor, was a pastor, who done found it there
With bruises on its ankles and a cross for a hand
A body on the step and lies all about
Was a pastor, was a pastor, who done found it there
Was a pastor, was a pastor, who done found it there
Put on your Sundays, we’re gonna dig a hole
Put on your Sundays, we’re gonna dig a hole
Was a father, was a father, who done rung the bell
Was a father, was a father, who done rung the bell
With scratches on his cheek and beer on his breath
A body on the step and lies all about
Was a father, was a father, who done rung the bell
Was a father, was a father, who done rung the bell
Put on your Sundays, we’re gonna dig a hole
Put on your Sundays, we’re gonna dig a hole
Was a mother, was a mother, burning someone’s clothes
Was a mother, was a mother, burning someone’s clothes
With rope in her apron and black for an eye
A body on the step and lies all about
Was a mother, was a mother, burning someone’s clothes
Was a mother, was a mother, burning someone’s clothes
Put on your Sundays, we’re gonna dig a hole
Put on your Sundays, we’re gonna dig a hole
Was a witness, was a witness, who done drew the drape
Was a witness, was a witness, who done drew the drape
With blood on his dogs and mud in his hair
A body on the step and lies all about
Was a witness, was a witness, who done drew the drape
Was a witness, was a witness, who done drew the drape
Put on your Sundays, we’re gonna dig a hole
Put on your Sundays, we’re gonna dig a hole
Was a parish, was a parish, who done bowed their heads
Was a parish, was a parish, who done bowed their heads
With sweat on their buckles and psalms on their mouths
A body on the step and lies all about
Was a parish, was a parish, who done bowed their heads
Was a parish, was a parish, who done bowed their heads
Put on your Sundays, we’re gonna dig a hole
Put on your Sundays, we’re gonna dig a hole