| The next day never came for the stoners
|
| No one would ever hear all their muffled cries
|
| As they slept an axe went through two of their necks
|
| Leaving one to be the last to die
|
| When he saw the carnage he started screaming
|
| As he did they tied him to a nearby tree
|
| A dull blade skillfully sliced right through
|
| His stomach and ribcage
|
| Medicinal Healing
|
| The blood started to spray
|
| His life was slipping away
|
| Medicinal Healing
|
| By his feet in the mud
|
| A bucket was placed to catch the dripping blood
|
| The corpses were dragged in body bags
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| To the killers home a burned out shack
|
| This family was deranged
|
| They spent everyday
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| Smoking Marijuana, crystal meth, methamphetamines and crack
|
| Their ugly addiction driving them to kill
|
| The bodies carelessly tossed on the floor
|
| Everyone went to work, they’d done this before
|
| Their ghastly inbred sons removed limbs to fuel the hydroponic system
|
| A machine used to grind chunks of flesh
|
| Pulverized body parts that were left
|
| It was pumped into the veins of a corpse
|
| That belonged to their dead grandfather
|
| He had died from an overdose
|
| His dead body was left there in his favorite chair
|
| The families weed supply was starting to run short
|
| They had reached their last resort
|
| They planted seeds inside the cadaver
|
| And within hours it began to work
|
| Out of his flesh vines began to grow from the nutrients of the decomposed
|
| Medicinal healing
|
| They knew it would stop growing unless the blood started flowing
|
| Medicinal healing
|
| Missing persons reports kept on coming up short
|
| On the kids trying to score |