Sons of Sam

Random chaos thought to be one man Murder at random, killed where they stand No one knew who would die next No one knew the face of their hunters A dark coven, devoted to entropy Killing for sport, just to watch them die Under the name of the children Meeting late at night to plan their mayhem They needed a scapegoat to hang A face to lock up behind bars Tried to make it seem as though he acted alone Denying the existence of his accomplices