| Song | Blood on the Snow |
| Artist | Horse Feathers |
| Album | Words Are Dead |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| Painless ghosts, | |
| Of which she knows, | |
| The smell in her clothes, | |
| The smell in her nose. | |
| There's blood on the snow. | |
| Bring your love, | |
| It's on your tongue, | |
| It's on your roads, | |
| And in your toes. | |
| There's blood on the snow. | |
| Tuesday's violence, | |
| We're alone. | |
| Into their beds they approach their doom. | |
| Their heads, their lips, their chests, their hips, they walk. | |
| Them bones they move, they talk. | |
| Their bones they bleed they rot. | |
| Their tones they're forged, they're wrought, | |
| Into what they're not. |