The physical release (CD) comes in a beautiful digipak with artwork by Marcus Archer of Archer Creative Group in Knoxville, Tennessee. The enclosed 12-page booklet tells the story of the album and individual songs, with photos of the band.
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Rebekkah's mother had hip surgery in the spring of 2018. It didn't go well, and she was left paralyzed from the waist down and in tremendous pain. In retrospect, it was the beginning of the end for her. Along the way, never ones to miss an opportunity to laugh at circumstances, Rebekkah and her mother joked darkly about whether some surgeons might actually be serial killers. After all, the phrase "surgeons bury their mistakes" rings true for good reason.
Rebekkah wrote the lyrics to the song while driving up to Asheville to visit Michael, and actually had to stop at one point along the road so she could capture the first couple of verses before they were lost. The rest was written in the hotel room that night.
Rebekkah's mom got to hear the initial sketches for the song before she passed away, and laughed uproariously... and then cried for what it meant.
lyrics
You take her hands,
Your words are kind,
But the smile it never reaches your eyes.
You touch her body,
Stake your claim,
But beneath the tender words it’s all lies.
You cut her open,
Broke her bones,
Drug her up and left her for dead.
You convince yourself
That it's all her fault,
And you walk away shaking your head.
You've got killer hands
and a killer smile,
Countin’ up another notch.
How many bodies have you left behind,
How many times you've gotten away?
Not on my watch.
You make it so easy,
The stories you tell:
The woman didn’t have what it takes.
And nobody guesses,
Nobody knows,
‘Cause surgeons bury their mistakes.
You've got killer hands
and a killer smile,
Just another life that you lost.
How many bodies have you left behind,
How many times you've gotten away?
Not on my watch.
I know what you do,
I see who you are.
This time I caught you in the act.
Well, to your surprise
The patient lived,
And now for once the crime is a fact.
You’ve got blood on your hands
And blood in your eyes
Now you’re thinking something’s wrong with your scotch.
How many bodies have you left behind?
This time you’re not getting away!
Not on my watch.
Not on my watch.
Not on my watch.
Not on my watch.
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