You're the filthy creature

Crouched in the shadows

Of a street light

Hunched over your catch

Shit, she's barely alive

Blood dried up and caked in her hair

Her face just a bloody mess

Just when you think you're gonna

Finish the job

Martha comes along

Just to set things straight.



Gaping mouth

Full of razor-sharp teeth

All seeing eyes

She's staring you down.



She shatters your skull

In her vice-like grip

She tears your head off

Your victim gets sick

Lucky for you she wasn't dead

You just lost your head

Your brains oozing out

From between her fingers

Your blood wets her lips.



Grinning like an undertaker

Ready to dress a corpse

Grinning like an undertaker

Ready to dress a corpse