The dark crow man sits and stares into the oblivion
Into cold into nothingness, it's snowing in his mind

He's created himself in his own image
Lust held for him means naught, a knock on the door
Brings no smile to his cruel lips
The welcome in a woman's eyes holds nothing for him

Alone on his haunches the hair raises on the back of his neck
His dead eyes pierce the night
As his gaze falls down on the city it fills him the method ascertained, conviction
He knows what to do and moves to commit the deed