Jeffrey

Продолжение цикла стихов про маньяков-убийц

“Jeffrey”

Everything burns when you touch his skin

Everything goes out your mind within

And all the thoughts you’re afraid of

Go away and can’t make you stop.

You are perfectly mad it’s an impression.

They said your mind’s in wrong direction.

You’re happy when you drink American beer

And your every murder brings you’re a tear.

It’s a kind of madness, a little bit illness

When asking your victims try to forgive you.

They all pray for you to be their master

But why this civils called you a bustard?

You’re a black hand of god or a terrible hero

They hate you so much, but they’ve never forget you.

But you just afraid to be alone and stay free...

WHO ARE YOU? WHAT”S YOUR NAME? of course, Jeffrey...

(Дамер 09.01.2011)

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