Deluded by a strange life of fantasy Fueled by his own macabre insanity The vilest of beasts sets out once more To create dead bodies and increase his score.
Nobody knows yet the who or the when For the shadows are his closest friends But when the month begins anew There’s dead body one, and dead body two.
He seems to like to **** in twos Psychiatrists scratch their heads confused And witter on in gobbledygook tones As yet more bodies turn up as bones.
It’s been a year so that’s twenty-four He needs a holiday that’s for sure But when on holiday he acts the same For he loves to play his killing game.
By the sea, or near the shore He still adds to his wicked store Of trophies that he takes each time When he commits these wicked crimes.
Will he be caught, he thinks not Though there are times the trail is hot But then he plays a clever trick One that he thinks makes him slick.
One male one female normally But when in trick mode, he kills three And this he thinks throws of the scent Of police detectives all hell-bent.
And these detectives can see no link For our killer never stops to think He picks them up at any place Barely looking them in the face.
But slowly now as time goes on His madness grows, all reason gone This could be the end of him It drives him closer to the rim.
Control is what he’s losing first His plan for killing has just burst If he goes out and kills again He’ll make mistakes, they’ll catch him then.
And so the killings suddenly stop ****** numbers see a drastic drop Can they catch him, who knows how? Will thirty dead see justice now?