Sociopathic Doo-Wop Blues

The shadows, they shift, swallowing the light
 The shadows, they shift, swallowing the signs of life
 The shadows chase the yellow, then they take a bite
 I am not the one, not my prints on the gun
 That's not an ideal expression
 I am not the one, it's not artfully done
 My design would be challenging and fun
 I have no remorse, no guilt on my trail
 I have no remorse, though the fuzz is on my tail
 This pleasure is a treasure found in their entrails
 I am not the one, not my prints on the gun
 That's not an ideal expression
 I am not the one, it's not artfully done
 My design would be challenging and fun
 You try to pin this sophomoric act on me
 Man, I'll strike again so you see my expertise
 A nihilist, a survivalist, I'd sooner remain free
 Each time, a more refined and sweeter symphony
 Lack of evidence, hidden messeges, encompass all the deceased