The Butcher

Across the coals, they've dragged their toes
The children that you used to know
Hung there, like a string of meat
These days the butcher runs this street
Night danger
Flash heat in the frigid air
Cooling slow and growing pale
Black and white and blue and red
The frightened child goes back to bed
Night danger

In your darkest hour, the clock still strikes each tick
In the darkest hour, walk swift - don't slip