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