Son of Sam

In the heat of '76, New York couldn’t sleep

A shadow walked the boroughs, and the silence ran deep

Six were left breathless, seven more scarred

The .44 caliber prophet preaching from a car

He said, “I am a monster. I am Beelzebub.”

Scrawled it on a letter, signed it with blood

“To the people of Queens, and all of New York,

I love to hunt. Pardon me if I talk.”

I am the Son of Sam, I do it for the dog

The devil spoke to me through Harvey in the fog

“The world is full of filth,” he whispered from the flame

So I pulled the trigger, and you all knew my name

David Berkowitz, born in ‘53

Adopted and alone, just a boy diseased

Said he heard voices calling from the night

They told him to kill, said it felt so right

Donna and Jody, shot in their car

Christine and Valentina, never got far

Cops got the letters, “I’ll be back,” he swore

And the city froze behind each bolted door

I am the Son of Sam, the fever in July

The Bronx to Brooklyn, I made the angels cry

“The demons dance inside me,” he wrote with no shame

I took their breath and left you with my name

In Yonkers they found him, a parking ticket clue

His car held the shotgun and a chilling note too

“I am a soldier, I kill for my master,”

He smiled for the camera, darkness spreading faster

Now he sits in Sullivan, a Bible in his hand

Says he’s found Jesus and tries to understand

But the ghosts still wander where the blood once ran

Forever cursed by the Son of Sam

I was the Son of Sam, I answered to the hound

Now I’m just David, hearing different sounds

The devil’s voice is silent, but the city still feels pain

When the summer wind whispers my name…