Blood is dripping onto the floor
A pool of blood leads to the door
the footsteps trail onto the path,
You can almost hear, his evil laugh
You follow the trail of crimson blood
The smell of death is mixed with mud
You tremble down into your core
And soon you spot another door
The light is on, and footsteps lead
Down in the mud for insects to feed
I peek through the window, pray not to be seen
Because that man, he's violent, he's mean
I see his hands coated with blood
His shoes on the ground, covered with mud
The knife lay, on the floor
A creaking screech, wind in the door
His head spins, I duck out of sight
I run through the trees and into the night
The door swings, hitting the wall
I desperately run, and pray not to fall
I see a flash, of metal in the air
One extra death, what should he care?
Here I run, this night he took a life
From the man, with the bloody knife
