Atrophy - Product Of The Past

The sun is down, the light go on A glass and concrete hell The beast aroused, begins to prowl Aware of every smell He notes perfume in the air Sees footprints in the dust Woman's blood upon the ground A victim of his lust He can't resist their call His night will be their last Sworn to have them all A product of the past Beaten at an early age A scared and confused child Fierce revenge on womanhood Makes mother's wrath seem mild Every night tortured sleep No one there to care Outcast of society Trapped inside his lair Something more than animal Yet something less than man Striking fear in women's hearts A sick and twisted plan Stalking every unlit street Searching for his prey Stranger to compassion Now violence is his way