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    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

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