Skindog Blues

(shhh-ahhh) Midnight whispers

drown the cobbled stone Where shattered prayers were left alone

Gaslight trembles, pale and weak

As nameless horrors stalk the street

Every doorway hides a stare

Every silence breathes

despair The fog consumes what eyes once knew And swallows every trace

of truth

Who walks beneath the mourning sky?

Who leaves the dead without goodbye?

Every answer fades to dust

Buried deep beneath mistrust

In the fog of Whitechapel,

terror grows Where no one sees and nobody knows (aaah-oooh) A faceless

phantom haunts the night Vanishing before first light The city shivers,

cold and still

Held beneath a darker will Legends bleed where the truth has slipped

Forever feared... the Skindog beast

Church bells mourn but never warn Another soul is left forlorn Windows

close against the cries While evil walks in plain disguise

Rusted clocks refuse to turn

Ashes hide where candles burn

Every footprint meets the rain

Leaving ghosts instead of names

Was it hatred? Was it fate?

Or something born to feed on dread?

The mist remembers every scream Though truth dissolves like fever dreams No

final word, no closing page

Only whispers locked in age

The lantern dies... the shadows breathe...

Something waits beneath the street

Every heartbeat counts the cost

Every soul already lost The night has teeth The dark has eyes

And every silence... tells a lie

In the fog of Whitechapel,

candles fade Every legend casts a darker shade (hey-ya,

hey-ya!) No one

conquered what stalked the

night Only chased its fading light

History whispers but guards its tomb Where unanswered echoes fill the gloom

The mystery lives while the years have slipped Forever cursed...

the big bad Skindog When dawn

arrives, the streets are bare Yet something lingers in the air Not

flesh... not bone... not earthly form...

But fear that lives beyond the storm And when the fog rolls

in once more Whitechapel remembers...

Skindog (hmmmmmm)