Deep in the playground
I spotted you

A little child
By the age of two

Sitting on a bench
I watch your every move

Thinking of how
I will slaughter you

I see you
and all of your friends
Thinking of the fresh meat
I will attend

I get in my van
And i drive close

Killing the ones
Who loved you the most

Taking you home
In my picnic basket

Once your dead
You'll need no casket

I'll take you home
For a mid-night feast

This kindergarden massacre
Will not cease

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