Jack the Ripper

Hide, for the ripper plays

on London streets, smog at his feet

Blood is what he craves; in blood, he bathes

Run through the London maze

he is the butcher and you're his meat

Hide, for the ripper plays

Can police stop his murderous craze?

When ladies of the night sleep on concrete

blood is what he craves; in Blood, he bathes

Too late, you'll never see the morning rays

He'll never stop till he feels complete

Hide, for the ripper plays

Blood is what he craves; in blood, he bathes