You thought it was over, it's not over I'll be back, I brought my axe In the shadows, alone in the dark Young victims I stalk You thought it was over, it's not over I'll be back From the grave To mutilate Axed in the back Pick through the neck Dead like the rest Molested and left Limbs split in half I ruptured their flesh Puncture wounds To the head Bone fragments clot to the hatchet Knee-deep in the blood of the dead Cranial separation Sex with her severed head Rotten walking dead Hunting living victims