taken from letters sent by Jack the Ripper



Fired anticipation, burns within me.

Revealed in illness, at infancy.



Whispering Jack, born in a fever.

Twice as sharp as a butcher's cleaver.

Aesthetic blade, let death be quick.

Gaslit street, a butchers trick.



Whispering Jack, born in a fever.

Twice as sharp as a butcher's cleaver.

Your mind is bled, hunger's been fed.



Every woman's body par', to some it's meat, to me it's art.

I've taken my need, left her my seed.

Autumn of terror, white chapel homicides.

Addiction for suffering, for all the whores that died.