These are Murdering Hands
No one ever seems to know
That these are mudering hands
And while I hide my blackened soul
I long to loose these bands
Loose the ties that keep me bound
Until I break and am free
Who are you to judge myself
When I am judge and jury
These hands have touched a lover's heart
Have heard that final damning bell
Have shed the blood that drowns this city
Drowning Gotham a living hell
You sit and sentence me with your eyes
Condemn me to a life in Freud's bed
And yet still you bring me out and wonder
Exactly why do I like my soul stained red?
Well here I am Gotham your princely clown
And the lesson here is simple
I want you to sit awhile and hold my hands
I promise I'll be gentle