The Pick (Letra)
You thought it was over, it’s not over
I’ll be back, I brought my axe
In the shadows, alone in the dark
Young victims I stalk
You thought it was over, it’s not over
I’ll be 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 ruptured their flesh
Puncture wounds
To the head
Bone fragments clot to the hatchet
Knee-deep in the blood of the dead
Cranial separation
Sex with her severed head
Rotten walking dead
Hunting living victims
