Text: Luke Doucet. Blood's Too Rich. Beacon On The Southpaw.

Young men steal away with unprotected fruit.
Dirt up in the face of the complacent.
The rule of the hunter is to see himself as prey.
Never leave the deer hunt empty-handed.

Once the guard is let down, there's no turning down the tide.
Endless waves to drown a sleeping fire.
Don't think that because she wears that beacon on the southpaw,
That she won't let some daddy be her baby tonight.

I know how to keep my tally in the black,
Elbow grease and lilies in mid-may.
I've got the advantage in my knowledge of the land,
I know what kind of flowers make you sway.

Baby, please don't leave me flapping in the breeze.
My body's old, my young man's cold and tired.
Only you can cut me- off at the knees and leave me here in desperation dying

(Thanks to Claire for these lyrics)