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In the streets of London |
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Not long ago in a time |
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The same gaslight to light your path |
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Would leave shadows to hide the crime |
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The drunks who were sick or asleep |
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The gutters and the mice |
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And the brave women who worked the streets |
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To serve old Londons vice |
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Oh Dark Annie what made you turn |
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on Hanbury street that eve |
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Were you cold, was business slow |
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Had your men all taken leave |
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Did you hear the footsteps behind you |
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Or see the shining knife |
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Did you know that the hand at your back |
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would be the one to take your life? |
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So I drink to your life and to your death |
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And I hope you put up a fight |
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And Annie Chapman I raise my glass |
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to you on this winters night |
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The front page of the papers said |
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that you were Jack's number three |
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And how quickly you were forgot |
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but your memory is not lost by me |
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So I drink to your life and to your death |
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And I hope you put up a fight |
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And Annie Chapman I raise my glass |
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to you on this winters night |
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Oh Dark Annie what made you turn |
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On Hanbury street that eve |
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With all the courage you must of had |
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Did you know you soon might bleed |
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In the streets of London |
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Not long ago in a time |
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The same gaslight to light your path |
|
Would leave shadows to hide the crime |
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So I drink to your life and to your death |
|
And I hope you put up a fight |
|
And Annie Chapman I raise my glass |
|
to you on this winters night |
