The Ripper -

Through fog-filled streets and alleys

Where fantails walk the night

A cloaked figure waits and watches

From beyond the dim gas light

What dark reason lies behind the veil

And drives him on to kill

These petticoats have no valuables

There’s nothing for him to steal

So why the senseless slaughter

Of the ones they deem so low

It’s certainly not for monetary gain

So perhaps it’s what they know

Dank air glistens on blackened tenement walls

The hovels of the poor

Where poverty is a way of life

Behind every bolted door

From such homes these wretches came

And are forced to walk the streets

To eke a living in its most basic form

With every stranger that they meet

So why the needless slaughter

Of the ones they deem so low

It can’t be for any other reason

It must be what they know

The need to exist will drive them out

From behind their own locked doors

To venture forth into the night

To work the streets as whores

For them there is no future

No reason for them to be

And the momentary glimpse of a flashing blade

Is the lat thing they will see

In death there needs to be some pride

Even for those deemed so low

Not lie disembowelled in a filthy street

Just for what they know

So who will be the scapegoat

Who will take the blame

When the compass and the setsquare

Rears its head again

Who will they use to hide the truth

And avert the public’s gaze

From the intrigue that in reality

Lies behind the political maze

Albert Victor’s name is whispered

From behind the crumbling walls

That the princes bastard offspring

Will be the next to rule

A Catholic heir in waiting

First in line to the throne

A situation that could not exist

And couldn’t be condoned

Was this the knowledge shared by the ones

Who people deemed so low

Perhaps this is what the secret is

Perhaps this is what they know

Does the ripper still exist today

But in a different form

To carry out the subversive acts

To protect these royal born

Who is it that hides behind the cloak

This friend without a face

And how many of his victims

Will disappear without a trace

How many more will meet the fate

Of the ones they deem so low

And how many more will have to die

Because of what they know

So who will be the scapegoat

Who will take the blame

When the compass and the setsquare

Rears its head again