weird poetry by jack - grimfaith lyrics
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“eight little wh-r-s, with no hope of heaven,
gladstone may save one, then there’ll be seven.
seven little wh-r-s begging for a shilling,
one stays in henage court, then there’s a killing.
six little wh-r-s, glad to be alive,
one sidles up to jack, the? there are five.
foure and wh-r- rhyme alright,
so do three and me,
i’ll set the town alight
ere there are two.
two little wh-r-s, shivering with fright,
seek a cosy doorway in the middle of the night.
jack’s knife flashes, then there’s but one,
and the last one’s the ripest for the jack’s idea of fun.”
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