There's a street I'd always walk,
And a man I'd greet but we'd never talked
No pity for the man insanity wed,
Nor hatred for what he hasn't done yet
Moral frailty wilts to conscious intent,
And ends his means to shed a tear for the now blissfully dead
A synchronised whisper of blood and tears hitting dirt
No pity sprouts from the teething earth
As day breaks over a nights work,
What looked bad is starting to look worse
Vile and deliberate. Secrets die with the silent witness
A choir of crickets, the clouds cry and the sun shivers
Arrested but spared of death, im among the merciless
A killed came and a killer saw, the killer killed, and now the killers no more