For so many years My story was theorized In vain they have narrated Truth instead betrayed The pleasure of the blood The atrocity of my deeds Always enchanted you I'm the dream of the dark side I'm the slayer, the maniac rapist The maker blade of the corpses of Whitechapel Six feet under I cannot Tell you anything May my spectral thought Reach a mind Listen to my voice Mother of the dead And tell who I am The master of mayhem I'm the slayer, the maniac rapist The maker blade of the corpses of Whitechapel I'm the master of mayhem! None of your theories corresponds to reality I'm one of you, a perfect stranger The ideal neighbour, the husband, your friend Voice of the dead reveals my face, my life He might conceal near you, the new murderer No theory, no trauma, just the pleasure of taking souls away, away! I'm the slayer, the maniac rapist The maker blade of the corpses of Whitechapel I'm the master of mayhem!