Realm of Mutated Cannibals

rapped in the desert for hundreds of years With nothing to eat but their own They were isolated in the mountains Until the miners freed them Now modern man is their food source A blow to the head and a spear through the throat They converge on a bleeding body for their feast Ripping the flesh, cutting tendons Yards of intestines are drawn from a living target They cackle in delight as they greedily devour Organs are fought for and sometimes split in two They paint their faces, these insane killers Nuclear testing in the ‘40s fucked with their genes They come on like ants in a frenzy, hunting for food Ripping out a fetus and gratefully eating it The nearest town forms a party with rifles But bullets hardly stop these mutated cannibals Busting down doors and smashing through windows There’s no stopping the mad flesh-eaters Tearing chunks from screaming citizens Blood on their hands and faces while they murder Biting off the fingers of human game There is chaos in the streets Stone axes fall on the sheriff and slice him to bits Raw, red slabs are slashed and passed around When one dies the others take his meat And insane war parties take to the desert