My name is Jack, I’m a prowler,
I like to prowl the streets of Whitechapel,
Looking for whores.
No one knows,
Who I am.
They try to get me,
But all their efforts are in vain.
I am the elusive one.
I am the Devil’s son.
I leave a trail to be followed,
Pieces of meat to be swallowed.
I even wrote a letter to the boss,
In red ink to represent the blood,
Of my victims, all whores,
And all of them got what they deserved.
Mary Ann Nichols was first to go,
Early Friday morning, in Bucks Row.
I left two slashes on her throat,
And her abdomen I tore,
Until she breathed no more.
Elated, my work done,
I went home.
Annie Chapman was the next I killed,
In Hanbury Street, Spitalfields,
As…
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