Seven already... It feels like bloody seven thousand. And seven is my favourite number, so that will be this weeks theme.
The Killers Seven
Seven individuals they were
Savages born and raised, to live with a care
Calculating and cold
Never afraid, living life so bold
Raised in blood, without any sign of love
Poor little Jimmy's face lit up as he murdered that dove
Tortured by themselves as they tried to make ends meat
Their first attempts are murder proved quite the treat
Now that they're older
Each attempt has grown bolder
They've killed many times
And committed one too many crimes
For now they lay still
Scattered around the bank tellers till
They've had their fun
But, bullet ridden they're done
These seven little killers.
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