He stands and looks far away into the mythic distance
The frosty cold night leaves goose pimple on his skin
He breathes out misty air and walks down the alley

The man flings on his leather jacket as the raindrops star to fall
His heart is full of guilt, but he’s used to it
He lets the rain drench him with the belief that it’ll wash him
Wash his guilt off, wash his sins off, wash the blood off

Tonight was another bloody night, another life gone from his hands
Another soul sent to hell, another blood stain to his palm
His job for tonight is over now he could go and mellow,
Enjoy reminiscing on the bloody cries of his victims
Or the helpless shriek as their body went limp

He knows who he is; He knows he’s a killer
He knows he’s Hades’ servant, a representative of Death
He doesn’t love who he is and wishes he could change
But he can’t for it is in his blood; flowing and alive

At night, he can’t sleep and have a nights rest
For the shadows and spirits of his dead are haunting him
He hates the night yet dreads the day,
Cuz, evil dwells in the night and so does his sorrows

He’s not a believer yet he attends the church
After every kill he seeks some sort of refuge from guilt
And strangely, at church he sees his guilt all melt away
But when he leaves the church he’s him again
The killer, the death, the monster, the beast.
He’s him the murderer.