Upward he shoots
By the springs on his boots
Like an inverted angel
We've been afraid of this terrible
Strange, elusive monster for years
It seems to be superstitious lunacy
But in fact when things go black
Old Spring Heeled Jack appears
I hear the sound
Of him bounding around
On the rooftops of London
Leaving the people bewildered and stunned
And, on occasion, aflame
No sooner than unsuspecting Englishmen
Turn their backs, the wretch attacks
And Spring Heeled Jack's his name
I doubt that it's those clever brats in college
And the Marquess of Waterford denies all knowledge
And people in the area reek of ma** hysteria...
But, admit you must, that it is just enough to scare you
And you scream when he draws
Out a handful of claws
And a blue breath of fire
Then disappears leaping higher and higher
As if lighter than air
Time marches on
Now it seems as though he's gone
This day lacks tales of his acts
But don't relax
For Spring Heeled Jack's still there