Jack the Ripper

I would rather sleep with Jack the Ripper,
Than living with human race and its behaviour.

How a man can wonder,
If it's time to blow,
Between children and walkers,
Without feeling any sorrow?

How a man can make a coat,
His foot crushing a dog's throat,
Which is only guilty,
Of living in the wrong country?

Why a sweety dady,
Whose son is five years old,
And discovering the world,
Why is he raping him?

Where is the spark,
In the eyes of these children,
Who are holding guns?
Why aren't they playing in a park?

[...]

This is only snatches,
Just parts of histories,
This is a clumsy way to tell,
That world is not a fairy-tale.

You could rewind the tape,
Before the movie is end.
But you have to give your hand.
Would you make the step?