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[Fresh Prints]

Back in the city, some are missing

Phone is hanging, only hissing

Don't even know how I got to this place, yet

I'm running out of patience (yeah!)

Fresh prints of a simian sort

Part the snow by my fort

You see, it's me he's come to stifle

But no match for my rifle

The branches scream, the night's alive

A shadow, the beast will thrive

No mercy here, just an endless fight

It's in my sights

Tear me limb from, limb from

Tear me limb from, limb from

Tear me limb from, limb from

Tear me limb from, limb from

Tear limb from, limb from

Tear limb from, limb from

Tear limb from, limb from

Tear limb from, limb from

Tear

[Last Rites]

As I lay on the ground

Cold, wet with my own blood

I have no last rites

I journey, slowly, slowly

Into the land of the dead

The dead all scream for one man

One man alone

His name is Sugarloaf

Presenting your highness!