Laundry snaps on the line
Flies hum in the grocery sign
Stolen shirt, machete shine
Killer crosses the county line
Farmhouse waits in roadside dust
Nail heads bloom with rust
Memory blanks where the tree line bends
Old wounds wake when the weekend begins
Mask goes on
An icon is born
Brand new face
A killer fully formed
Part 3 (part 3D)
Now the mask can breathe
Cold hands, no heartbeat
Run if you can
The night stands still
He found his face
Now he’s ready to kill
Prank face by the dockside boards
Laugh runs thin; the woods want more
Bikers growl, siphon gas
Loud trouble never made to last
Loft rafters creak
Farm tools show their teeth
Biker hangs above the straw
Pitchfork nails him to the wall
Blank white plastic
Black-hole eyes
Red little arrows
No soul inside
Part 3 (part 3D)
Now the mask can breathe
Cold hands, no heartbeat
Run if you can
The night stands still
He found his face
Now he’s ready to kill
The place goes quiet
The cheer goes cold
Cold blooded icon
Takes hold
Mask On
Spear in sight
Body split
Hammock knife
Fuse box blown
Poker bright
Skull caved in
Axe in flight
Part 3 (part 3D)
Now the mask can breathe
Cold hands, no heartbeat
Run if you can
The night stands still
He found his face
Now he’s ready to kill