The most horrendous of all appearances Wandering through the narrow lanes Hiding his face behind the shadows Alone, without any witnesses on your side Looking for unhappy soul To quench his thirst for blood The lady of the night can be your next victim After all no one cares for her
Poor madame of harlots Better not have left home tonight That knife in the moonlight glistens in a Silvery color, gently cuts that pale neck Jus a cold cut Then heated by the blood flowing Amongo those beatiful pale breasts Her body fainting in his arms
Can still see the last Blue glow of her eyes Why? Asked himself, giving her A sweet kiss on the lips
