When I was growing up
My dad trained me to not get caught
Even as a grown man
I practice what he taught
Calm as a windless field
No matter what stress I endure
It's a different kind of hobby
But taking a life is yours
The victims I take are deserving of
The fate they suffer at the mercy of my hands
I do not falter
I make precise plans
Everyday l work magic
Analyzing the blood someone else left behind
They don't realize
This is the last thing on my mind
I blend in with my surroundings
Putting on a convincing show
I may let people in on my secret
But then I kill those who know
Kill those who know
The victims I take are deserving of
The fate they suffer at the mercy of my hands
I do not falter
I always make precise plans
I take some blood from their cheek
Tell them what they did wrong
I show them pictures of their victims
Then I kill them before too long