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.