• The blood fell like raindrops
    The bodies just crops
    He smiled and enjoyed the thrill
    of his close but not final kill
    the moon was tainted,the sky alive
    the stars marked the spot of corpses five
    the night was young as where his knives
    even death could not ignore his plea ironic
    because it was his spree demonic
    he looked in the mirror and who did he see
    but the sly happy face of little ole me