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In a quiet town, where rivers flow,

Lived a man all thought they’d know.

António Costa, kind and true,

With faith in God, the good he'd do.

A family man, with gentle grace,

A loving smile upon his face.

His uniform of pride he'd wear,

No one could guess the dark he'd bear.

He knew the girls, he passed their doors,

Yet hid his sins beneath the floors.

For in his heart, where shadows lay,

A twisted mind would find its way.

Three lives he stole, with cruel intent,

Their cries were lost, their voices spent.

Behind a mask of holy light,

He carried out his deeds at night.

The town would praise his honest name,

A man of peace, without a stain.

Yet none could see the blood-stained path,

That trailed behind his smiling mask.

He knew the girls, he passed their doors,

Yet hid his sins beneath the floors.

For in his heart, where shadows lay,

A twisted mind would find its way.

Three lives he stole, with cruel intent,

Their cries were lost, their voices spent.

Behind a mask of holy light,

He carried out his deeds at night.

But truth, it came, and broke the shell,

Exposed the horrors he’d not tell.

The law came down, the mask was torn,

Revealing what the town would mourn.

He knew the girls, he passed their doors,

Yet hid his sins beneath the floors.

For in his heart, where shadows lay,

A twisted mind would find its way.

Three lives he stole, with cruel intent,

Their cries were lost, their voices spent.

Behind a mask of holy light,

He carried out his deeds at night.

Now in a cell, his days unwind,

A man of faith, now left behind.

For deeds of night, no light can save,

The darkest soul, now bound, enslaved.