There’s nothing as pure as sin…
Delivered in the name of god,
Street woman killed with a builders hod.
Against the bible he said
As he left her for dead.
Stan smirked as he stood in the dock,
Fluffed and preened like a cock.
He said he had a right,
To take a life that dreary night.
Twenty years he got locked inside,
Twenty years to sit and hide.
Time where he’s allowed to breathe,
Where decent folk pay for his every need.
Still, she lies no blood to bleed
For walking streets to make a crust
Along came Stan her head he bust,
All that’s left are thoughts and dust.