You thought it was over, it=B9s not over.
I came back, I brought my axe
In the shadows, alone in the dark, young victims I stalk.
You thought it was over, it=B9s not over. I came 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 rupture their flesh.
Puncture wounds to the head.
Bone fragments clot to the hatchet.
Knee deep in the blood of the dead.
Cranial separation, s** with her severed head.
Rotten walking dead.
Hunting living victims.