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Snow White Chapel Beneath A Crimson Veil
She sold her tricks
On the streets
With the seven whores
She's Madame Snow
White silk sheets
Stained blood red and more
Her whores worked nights
Under moons
Weeping with despair
Beneath death's threat
Silken doom
Jack walks from his lair
The Whitechapel Demon
Is the right hand of God
The sinners will suffer
His wrath, the lightning rod
Smells of despair
Run down slums
Whitechapel's glory
Made in brothels
Of Snow White
And fairy stories
Legend made real
In night's grip
The death of seven
Beautiful whores
Bound and ripped
Beyond far heaven
He scents their flesh
In heavy rain
The perfumed taint
Smells so sweetly
Jack longs for
One little taste
NO!
Those wicked thoughts
Provoking
Violence unbound
To slice and dice
Wicked whores
On Whitechapel steps
The Whitechapel Demon
Is the right hand of God
The sinners will suffer
His wrath, the lightning rod
Rivers of blood
Forge his name
In tales of legend
Snow White and her
Seven whores
The slaughter begins
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