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
