It had to be done!
Conspiring web, killing me, the end.
Let me haunt you, a chilling tale.
Street cracks feed. Spilt blood bleeds.
Perhaps we=B9ll meet someday, when I get blown away.
Bringing forth the light, evil at twilight.
An absolute, depravity
If a weak linkage found, eliminate.
Hear the cities fearful roar. =
*=B3hello from the gutters of the city, filled with vomit, stale wine, =
Urine and blood. Greetings from the roaches that feed upon the blood =
Of all my victims. I appreciate your interest in me, but now now I =
Asked... What of your children?=B2*
Out to silence me.
Now I sleep.
The city weeps.
(=B3*=B2 taken from letters sent by David Berkowitz, The Son Of Sam)