Sounds disappear as if smothered into the shadows
Footsteps make a dull thud lost in a blanket of fear
A fear that is held taught by the night and it's visitor
The cold velvet makes the dark light but impedes sight
All move on edge from doorway to doorway ears acute
Are those footsteps or the mind playing tricks
Working girls, Gin filled amid the stinking streets
Will I be next?? Is he a regular or a new player
The cry goes out followed by whistles
Boots on cobbles, screams! He has returned
No person saw him he morphed into the night
Her body lies torn mutilated to precision
Organs laid out in a rutualistic yet barbaric display
Once again unseen his work done "Jacks back"
Fear grips the streets again the press give him status
The people condemn, the police powerless or forbidden to act?
Only history will reveal the killer in the fog