All they can hear is the Screaming ,
When someone hops in,
Their curiosity turning them to us.

All they can smell is the Blood,
When someone opens the door,
Hiding all our victims.

All they can see is the Blood
Dripping down from neck to toes,
From our victims hanging off the walls.

All they can taste is the Blood,
Anyone who enters our Den,
Having no chance to...