Looming over the figure running,
Was The Shadow.
Over the police’s pieces of precious evidence was: The Shadow.
Covering the picked padlock was: The Shadow.
Treacherous, Unforgiving, Evil.
He has been haunting, taunting, these parts for years,
The individual who conquers your fears.
He’s dark and black,
Just like his cold heart.
For there is and always will exist: The Shadow.
The atmosphere is always tense in his lair,
People are afraid of him, no matter where.
His intentions are harmless, but somehow still threatening.
His paralyzing words lure you in; he knows how to sing.
How do I know?
Simple. I am The Shadow.