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Dysangelium death-metal / Pardubice

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Text skladby Whitechapel


z alba Maniachrist

Autor hudby: Dysangelium
Autor textu: Nekro

Dark streets are full of cold and heavy fog
Nightlife in a slum
Is the same as every night
Drunkards are drinking from bottomless bottles
Few whores on the pavement
Shadows are creeping around the brick walls
But one is holding
A sharp knife in his hand
Nothing to hear, only his silent steps
In dark and cold nights
His freezing breath
London side, Whitechapel
1888
London side, Whitechapel
1888
The clerk with his moustache
His give - aways
The whores keep talking
But don't know about the murders
Polly's neck cut down in a pool of blood
She was found dead
Near the stables next morning
About a week after the murder all're asleep
From her lover home
Dark Anny is pacing
In the shadow of a lamp
Something is moving
Frightening her
A man in a dark cloak
London side, Whitechapel
1888
London side, Whitechapel
1888
Leather Apron
The spirit of morning streets
Writing from hell
Death is lurking
Fear all over London
Desperation
One day; two murders
Blood splash on the ground
Mary Ann Kelly and Long Liz knew each other
They are now dead
But madness goes ahead
The next was young Ginger
Sleeping her life is ended
London side, Whitechapel
1888
London side, Whitechapel
1888
Serial killer
They called him Jack the Ripper
Even today
We don't know who he was
Only a madman
An anathomist or a butcher
His identity
In time propably lost
Nobody knows
How many girls he killed
Maybe these five
Are not his full count
But he will stay
A legend among murderers
Mutilator
Jack the Ripper!