Chop, Chop, Chop [3:10] - Raise Your Fist And Yell, 1987 Some people call me the Creeper 'Cuz they don't know my name or face I got 'em running in circles Because a homicidal genius never leaves a trace I'm a lonely hunter City full of game Walkin' in the neon lights Chop, chop, chop, engine of destruction Chop, chop, chop, a perfect killing machine Chop, chop, chop, it's a symbiotic function Chop, chop, chop, I keep the city so clean Chop, chop, chop Some people call me the Ripper Stole my modus operandi from the movie screen she's just a celluloid stripper Just another bloody player in my splatter-filled dream Women on the streets Want money when we meet I take them for a little ride Chop, chop, chop, engine of destruction Chop, chop, chop, a perfect killing machine Chop, chop, chop, it's symbiotic function Chop, chop, chop, I keep the city so clean Chop, chop, chop She was standing on the corner With her bright red lips Her face was so white and pale (so pale) She had a black leather skirt That was tight to her hips And an anklet with a name It spelled M A R Y..... Gail Gail Gail Gail Gail Gail Gail Gail Gail ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Lyrics shown may not necessarily be correct, and do not always match the songsheets found in CDs - some of which are way off. Still, if the above is wrong, email btd@dongrays.com if you know what is really sung - thanks.