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Tuesday 18 November 2008 photo 1/1
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Sufjan Stevens - John Wayne Gacy Jr
His father was a drinker
And his mother cried in bed
Folding John Wayne's T-shirts
When the swingset hit his head
The neighbors they adored him
For his humor and his conversation
Look underneath the house there
Find the few living things
Rotting fast in their sleep of the dead
Twenty-seven people, even more
They were boys with their cars, summer jobs
Oh my God
Are you one of them?
He dressed up like a clown for them
With his face paint white and red
And on his best behavior
In a dark room on the bed he kissed them all
He'd kill ten thousand people
With a sleight of his hand
Running far, running fast to the dead
He took of all their clothes for them
He put a cloth on their lips
Quiet hands, quiet kiss
On the mouth
And in my best behavior
I am really just like him
Look beneath the floorboards
For the secrets I have hid
Polisen kände stanken från källaren men trodde att den berodde på någonform av avloppsläcka. Däremot beslagtog man en mängd föremål, blandannat ett kvitto som kunde kopplas till Robert Piest och en ring somtillhörde en tonårspojke som anmälts saknad. Under huset påträffadepolisen 29 lik stadda i olika grad av föruttnelse, i garaget samt i en flodi närheten hittade man ytterligare 3 lik - Gacy förklarade att han hadeslut på plats under huset och dessutom fick ryggproblem av alltgrävande. Gacy greps omgående. Ytterligare ett lik hittades ingjutet iuteplatsen. När undersökningarna slutförts hade 33 lik återfunnits.Dock kunde man endast identifiera 25 av de döda personerna, eftersomflera av liken var alltför förruttnade. De yngsta offren var 14-årigaSamuel Stapleton och Michael Marino, de äldsta 21-åriga Russell Nelsonoch James Mazzara. Den 13 mars 1980 dömdes Gacy till döden för 33 mord,
This world is sick
And his mother cried in bed
Folding John Wayne's T-shirts
When the swingset hit his head
The neighbors they adored him
For his humor and his conversation
Look underneath the house there
Find the few living things
Rotting fast in their sleep of the dead
Twenty-seven people, even more
They were boys with their cars, summer jobs
Oh my God
Are you one of them?
He dressed up like a clown for them
With his face paint white and red
And on his best behavior
In a dark room on the bed he kissed them all
He'd kill ten thousand people
With a sleight of his hand
Running far, running fast to the dead
He took of all their clothes for them
He put a cloth on their lips
Quiet hands, quiet kiss
On the mouth
And in my best behavior
I am really just like him
Look beneath the floorboards
For the secrets I have hid
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