It was a warm summer night in LA, August 69.
A single night of infamy and psychic darkness for mankind.
Sharon Tate was close to fulfilling her empty outcries,
when the night burned its cloak in the sunrise.
Earlier before dawn, a quiet eerie breeze came alive
And kept blowin’ down the canyon to 10050 Cielo drive.
A night so quiet, you could almost hear the sound of ice
Rattling in cocktail shakers in the homes of celebrity paradise.
The canyon walls came alive with eerie echoes.
“Blood-Curdling screams” and cries of “ Please don’t, Oh, God No”
Several were listening, no one saw a thing
It happened so sudden, so suddenly by pouncing
Red sky in the morning, Shepherds beware
Bad news at the front door, “Blood, bodies everywhere”
A blackbird flew away at the moment of betrayal
Lookout ,Helter Skelter ,she’s going down forcefully
The lost generation ,eight miles high and in a slide
The sacred store lost its soul when love and peace died
John Lennon could only imagine ,a world as one living peacefully.
In the jingle-jangle night of that summer, Murder so Brutal