To late to weep and
Late to lament
This night has cut off

Another thread

Far streets of London

Kiev's the same
Are filled with 19-th
Century flame


Jack is back With his interpritation of pain
Jack is back In you and other butchers insane

That is you Who hold a knife in the rain
Brings you fame This good-old evil they blame


You stand above her
Tormented body dead
Does not allow you to breath

All pleasure that you get

Every weak society

Bears us a beast
Men's moral emptiness
Multiplying sins


Violence - predicted sign of decadence
Nasty bloody hand erects the mankind's monument

This world is fed up with
Violence - predicted sign of decadence
Nasty bloody hand erects the mankind's monument