Cannabalistic Fiends - Mortician

Years have passed, demented rage

Lust for death, taste for flesh

Luring victims to the farm

Promise of help, you meet death

Electric drill splits your skull

Hot poker in your guts

Pitchfork rams in your throat

Blood spraying, night of gore

Deranged from blood, need more victims

Fresh corpses to dine and gorge

Insanity, sick family

Killing as one, the flesh hunger

No one can escape them

Cannibals eat your flesh