Caligulas_Mistress
10-09-2005, 06:32 PM
A caustic smile settles upon his bloodless lips,
As he bolts through London hiding behind various crypts.
A knife is his weapon and whores his victims,
Oh how does Jack pick them?
He lurks in the shadows, a phantom of the night.
Jack really enjoys it when the whores put up a fight.
Watching the life slowly seep from their eyes fills him with such glee.
And then cutting out vital organs, he proceeds to cut upwards from the knee.
A cherished momento of their time spent together hangs from his door,
And the policemen swear they've seen it before.
He leads them all on a merry little chase,
Never once in this game ever losing face.
Letters are written, written from hell.
Its all a game, his name he won't tell.
In the alleys he waits for who might be next,
He's rather picky as he decides who might be best.
However, blood is blood and he needs it all.
He'll finish his work even before the authorities are called.
Some might call him a professional, a hack, perhaps even a quack.
But no my friends he's just Jack.
As he bolts through London hiding behind various crypts.
A knife is his weapon and whores his victims,
Oh how does Jack pick them?
He lurks in the shadows, a phantom of the night.
Jack really enjoys it when the whores put up a fight.
Watching the life slowly seep from their eyes fills him with such glee.
And then cutting out vital organs, he proceeds to cut upwards from the knee.
A cherished momento of their time spent together hangs from his door,
And the policemen swear they've seen it before.
He leads them all on a merry little chase,
Never once in this game ever losing face.
Letters are written, written from hell.
Its all a game, his name he won't tell.
In the alleys he waits for who might be next,
He's rather picky as he decides who might be best.
However, blood is blood and he needs it all.
He'll finish his work even before the authorities are called.
Some might call him a professional, a hack, perhaps even a quack.
But no my friends he's just Jack.